CHAPTER 37 Gilded Thorns
The Montegreco villa was a masterpiece of cultivated beauty. Roses climbed trellises in explosions of color. Fountains whispered secrets to the wind. And everywhere, the wealthy and powerful moved like jeweled fish in a gilded pond.
Seraphine greeted them at the entrance, a vision in ivory silk. "Leo. Luna. How wonderful you could come." Her smile was perfect. Her eyes, calculating. "I'm so glad we can all… move forward."
"Generous of you to host," Leo said, his tone neutral.
"Oh, it's my pleasure. After all, we're all family now, aren't we?" Her gaze lingered on Luna. "That shade of blue is lovely on you. It almost makes you look… substantial."
Luna smiled, sweet as poison. "Thank you. I've always admired how you wear desperation. It takes real skill to make it look like a fashion choice."
A flicker of anger in Seraphine's eyes, quickly masked. "Do enjoy the party." She drifted away, a shark in shallow water.
Zara appeared at Luna's elbow, holding two flutes of champagne. "She's going to try something today. I can smell it."
"What's your nose telling you?"
"Betrayal. With a hint of floral notes." Zara sipped her champagne. "I've been watching the guest list. Interesting mix. All four families, yes. But also… outsiders. City council members. Journalists. She's building an audience."
"For what?"
"That's the question." Zara's eyes scanned the crowd. "Ah. Speaking of questions."
Jett Mòyǔ was making his way toward them, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. He'd grown thinner, his usual chaotic energy replaced by a brittle tension.
"Luna. Zara." He nodded, not meeting their eyes.
"Jett." Luna studied him. "Are you alright?"
"Peachy." His laugh was too sharp. "Just… family drama. You know how it is."
"Actually, I do." She touched his arm. "You can talk to me."
He looked at her hand, then at her face. Something in his eyes broke. "Not here. Later, maybe."
He walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
"Trouble in the Mòyǔ empire," Zara murmured. "His father's forgeries are catching up to him. The European galleries are demanding refunds. They're bleeding money."
"And Jett?"
"Is the sacrificial lamb. His father's offering him up—claiming Jett's 'experimental art' was actually the forgeries. To save the family business."
Luna's heart ached. "We should help him."
"We can't. Not without starting a war with the Mòyǔs." Zara's expression was grim. "Some spiders eat their young. It's nature."
The party unfolded like a slow dance. Luna made conversation with politicians' wives, laughed at bankers' jokes, and all the while watched Seraphine work the room. She was collecting favors, trading whispers, building something.
Then, halfway through the afternoon, Seraphine climbed a small dais and tapped a crystal glass.
"Friends! Thank you all for coming." Her voice carried over the garden. "In these new times of… cooperation… I thought we might toast to our shared future." She lifted her glass. "To unity!"
The crowd echoed the sentiment. Servants circulated with fresh drinks.
Jett appeared beside Luna again, holding two glasses of deep red wine. "Peace offering?" he said, trying for his old smile.
Zara took one glass, sniffed it. "I don't drink on duty."
"It's just wine, Zara." Luna took the other glass. "Thank you, Jett."
He watched her, his eyes oddly intense. "You should… you should really try it. It's a special vintage."
Something in his tone set off alarms. But this was Jett. Her Jett. The boy who'd given her a pizza-shaped towel when she was crying.
She took a sip. The wine was rich, fruity… with a faint, bitter aftertaste.
"See?" Jett said, his voice tight. "Special."