Chapter 6 - The Morning After
By nine o'clock the following morning, the sun broke through the clouds, casting a golden glow over the harbor of Monte Carlo. The video of the incident had become a global sensation. Every major entertainment news outlet, lifestyle blog, and morning broadcast had aired the clip of Cassandra throwing champagne, followed by the dramatic entrance of Captain Laurent falling to his knee before an unassuming woman in a ruined dress.
The internet had dubbed it the "Cinderella of the Riviera," though people quickly realized that this Cinderella didn't need a prince—she owned the entire kingdom.
I sat on the sun deck of the Étoile, wearing a simple white cashmere sweater and tailored linen trousers, reading through the morning papers. My phone was buzzing relentlessly with calls from acquaintances, high-society acquaintances who hadn't spoken to me in months, and fashion designers begging to send replacement dresses to my suite at the Hôtel de Paris.
Marie approached with a silver tray carrying fresh croissants and a small handwritten envelope. "This was delivered to the security gate at the pier, Mademoiselle. The guards checked it thoroughly. It is from Miss Vale."
I picked up the envelope. The paper was cheap, torn from a hotel notepad. Inside was a short, scribbled message:
Please. I lost everything overnight. My father is in jail, my apartment lease in Manhattan is cancelled, and people are waiting outside my hotel to harass me. I didn't know who you were. If you tell the press to stop, I will do anything. I will clean your floors. Just make it stop.
I folded the paper and set it beside my teacup.
There was no joy in reading it. Cruelty never produces true satisfaction, only an empty silence once the dust settles. Cassandra had spent years building a house of cards out of vanity, malice, and borrowed status. All it took was one gust of cold reality to blow it down completely.
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Julian walked up the staircase, looking fresh and impeccably tailored as always. "The magistrate has finalized the restraining order, Elena. Miss Vale has been ordered to leave Monaco by midday. She has no funds remaining on her credit cards; her manager had to wire her coach airfare back to New Jersey."
"Let her go," I said softly, looking out over the sparkling blue waters of the bay. "The world has already taught her the lesson. We don't need to kick someone who has completely broken herself."
