Theodore Sr. was losing patience. When Conway reported that the divorce bribe had failed, the old man decided to force the issue himself.
Diana was sitting in her living room when her phone rang. It was Mrs. Holloway. The housekeeper's voice was clipped and carried the weight of a direct order.
"Madam, Mr. Theodore requires you to attend the Maxwell Foundation's annual charity gala tonight with Mr. Julian."
Diana's stomach clenched. "I don't think Julian wants me there..."
"This is your duty as Mrs. Maxwell," Mrs. Holloway interrupted sharply. "It is also a requirement under your prenuptial agreement. Mr. Julian is currently at the Elysian Club downtown. You are to meet him there immediately."
The line went dead. Diana dropped the phone onto the couch. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She had to put on the mask and play the loving wife.
She walked to her closet and pulled out a modest, knee-length black dress. It was simple and safe. She ordered a car and headed to the Elysian Club.
The club was a towering monument to extreme wealth. The lobby was lined with marble and gold. Diana walked up to the front desk. The receptionist, Brandy McCoy, looked Diana up and down. Brandy's eyes lingered on the plain black dress, her lips curling into a subtle sneer.
"I am here to see Julian Maxwell," Diana said, ignoring the look.
Brandy picked up the phone and dialed an extension. She listened for a moment, rolled her eyes, and hung up. "Mr. Maxwell is currently entertaining guests. He does not wish to be disturbed. Please wait in the lounge."
Her tone was incredibly dismissive. Diana walked to the lounge area and sat on a velvet sofa. Thirty minutes passed. Julian did not appear.
Diana's anxiety spiked. If she missed the gala, Theodore would punish her. She stood up and approached a waiter passing by. His nametag read 'Will Shepherd'.
"Excuse me," Diana said, her voice tight. "I really need to see Mr. Maxwell. We have a family gala to attend."
Will stopped and looked at her. He saw the cheap dress and the desperate look in her eyes. He immediately categorized her as another gold digger trying to force her way into a billionaire's life.
A cruel, mocking smile touched Will's lips. He despised women who tried to climb the social ladder with nothing but a cheap dress and desperate eyes. This pathetic woman deserved to be taught a harsh lesson by the real, terrifying boss upstairs.
"Ma'am, I am afraid that outfit won't get you past the VIP doors. But I know a place that can help you," Will said, his voice slick.
He led Diana down a quiet hallway and opened the door to the club's private styling room. Racks of designer gowns lined the walls.
Will pulled a hanger off the rack. "Try this. I guarantee Mr. Maxwell won't be able to look away."
Diana stared at the dress. It was a custom silver Versace gown made of liquid silk. It had barely any fabric. The back was completely exposed down to the waist, and a massive slit ran up the side, stopping dangerously close to the hip bone.
"This... this is too revealing," Diana stammered, her face flushing hot.
"Trust me," Will pushed the hanger into her hands. "The rules are different up there. If you want to catch a Maxwell's attention, you have to play the game."
He heavily implied that the dress was standard attire for the private parties upstairs.
Diana hesitated. Her fingers gripped the silk. She remembered Julian's mocking face. She remembered her father's threats. Maybe she did need to play the part to survive the night.
Driven by panic and Will's manipulation, she stepped behind the screen and put the dress on.
The cold silk clung to her skin like a second layer. She felt completely exposed. A deep sense of shame settled in her chest, but she forced herself to walk out.
Will whistled. "Perfect. I will take you to the most important Mr. Maxwell right now."
Diana assumed he meant Julian.
Will led her past the main lounge and swiped a card at a private elevator. He pressed the button for the top floor-the penthouse suite.
Will knew Theodore's order was to take her to "Mr. Maxwell." But everyone working at the Elysian Club knew there was only one true master of the building. The man who permanently rented the penthouse. Conway.
The elevator doors opened to a dimly lit, silent hallway. Will gestured toward the heavy double doors at the end. "Right through there."
He quickly stepped back into the elevator, the doors sliding shut, leaving Diana completely alone. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs.
