Chapter 92

Vivian's fingers tightened around her champagne flute as she spotted Bianca across the crowded ballroom. The crystal stem nearly slipped from her grasp before she steadied herself with a practiced smile. "Bianca! What a delightful surprise," she cooed, gliding toward the younger woman with calculated grace. "You're absolutely glowing tonight."

The tension in Bianca's shoulders eased marginally. After all, Vivian had recently proven useful in undermining that upstart Vivian Hartley. Perhaps this conversation might yield some entertainment.

"Ms. Whitmore," Bianca acknowledged with icy politeness, her gaze flickering toward the exit. "I hadn't expected to see you here."

Vivian then turned her attention to Margaret Blackwood, dipping into a shallow curtsy. "Madam Blackwood, you outshine every jewel in this room tonight." The syrupy compliment dripped from her lips like honey.

Margaret barely spared her a glance, already pivoting toward the terrace with a dismissive hum.

But Vivian wasn't finished. With a subtle nod toward where Vivian Hartley stood near the grand piano, she feigned sudden recognition. "Oh! Isn't that Ms. Hartley over there? I didn't realize you'd all arrived together."

Margaret's expression remained impassive, but Bianca's grip on her aunt's arm turned vice-like. "She's here?" Bianca's voice cracked like a whip. "Aunt Margaret, no wonder Adrian claimed he had no extra invitations when I asked. He must have given his to her!"

Bianca's cheeks flushed with indignation. She'd practically begged Adrian for access to this exclusive gala, only to be turned away empty-handed. Being Margaret's plus-one already stung her pride - discovering Vivian Hartley had received Adrian's personal invitation made the humiliation unbearable.

Margaret patted her niece's clenched fist with detached calm. "You're here now, aren't you?"

Vivian seized the opportunity with a carefully timed gasp. "Oh dear, so Adrian personally invited her? How... interesting. Though I did notice she arrived with Mr. Vaughn. Rumor has it they've become quite close while collaborating on that new Ivory Phoenix production."

Bianca's laugh held no warmth. "Using our family's connections to parade around with some B-list producer? Pathetic. That studio barely qualifies as mid-tier - does she actually think rubbing elbows here will earn her respect? If our social circle catches wind of this acting nonsense, it's Adrian's reputation that'll suffer."

The venom in her words lashed out indiscriminately, even grazing Vivian who stood beside her.

Vivian absorbed the unintended slight without flinching, her smile never wavering. "Now, now," she soothed, pitching her voice to a conspiratorial murmur, "with the right project and a few well-placed awards, perceptions can change remarkably. I happen to know a screenwriter who could give Vivian Hartley herself a run for her money..."

Her strategy unfolded like a poisonous flower - offering help while planting seeds of doubt.

"Please," Bianca scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Awards? For what - her stellar performance folding laundry? She's only here to exploit the Blackwood name. Nothing more."

Vivian swirled her champagne thoughtfully. "Even the most inexperienced actress can shine with proper guidance. If Ms. Hartley is serious about her career, I'd be happy to make introductions..."

Meanwhile, near the dessert table, Vivian Hartley felt the weight of hostile stares pressing against her skin. Spotting an escape route, she discreetly slipped toward the balcony doors, the murmur of malicious gossip fading behind her.