The Billionaire's Mistake (Anya and Daniel)



Chapter 256: Gala

The following evening found Vivian being chauffeured to one of the city's most prestigious a museums for its annual gala exhibition opening. She sat rigidly in the back of the town car fingers fiddling with the dazzling diamond rivière at her throat.

Part of her was still in mild disbelief that this was actually her life now - draped in jewels fi for royalty, about to play the role of a high society wife on Mathew Shaw's arm. Just a few weeks prior, she had been a struggling actress barely keeping herself and her niece financiall afloat. Now she floated in a strange parallel universe of opulence and unreality.

As they pulled up to the museum's entrance, a small crowd of paparazzi and art patrons ha already gathered behind velvet ropes, eagerly craning to catch glimpses of the night's ests Vivian took a steadying breath, squaring her shoulders as Joe opened her door and offered ar arm to help her from the car.

"Just follow my lead and keep that chin up," he muttered under his breath as they ascended the broad staircase toward the entrance. "You're supposed to own this scene, understand?"

Vivian gave the slightest of nods, subtly adjusting the layered folds of her shimmering silver gown. Hundreds of crystal accents refracted the flashing lights into prismatic sparks, drawing more than a few stunned looks her way. She lifted her chin higher, back ramrod straight as she glided across the crimson carpet, the picture of regal confidence.

The museum's executive art director himself was waiting inside the opulent lobby, looking every bit the effete curator in his tuxedo and wire-rimmed glasses. He greeted Vivian with exaggerated deference, an obsequious smile plastered across his narrow face.

"Mrs. Shaw, we are beyond honored to have you here tonight. We've been looking forward to this moment for weeks." He moved to take her hand, flashing a quick look of surprise when Joe smoothly intercepted, shaking it firmly instead.

Vivian allowed the businessman to bend reverentially over her knuckles, dipping into a courtly bow. "Please, allow me to give you the personal grand tour before we open up to the masses."

Without awaiting a response, he turned and gestured for them to follow, prattling on about the prestigious exhibits and pieces being unveiled as they swept through the thick of the milling crowd. More than a few heads turned in vivian's wake, incredulous murmurs rippling out as attendees took stock of her eye-catching jewels and imperious entourage of bodyguards. She could feel the weight of their curious stares, prickling over her skin. Clearly, word was rapidly spreading about the mysterious diamond-draped woman who had arrived in such extravagant style, yet no one seemed able to identify precisely. Their confusion only amplified as the sycophantic art director rolled out the red carpet treatment, simpering over Vivian's every vague hum of acknowledgment.

At one point, they swept through a secondary gallery area where Vivian could hear a familiar

apter 256. Gala

name being passed in hushed tones from group to group. Shaw... Shaw's wife... The Shaw family? Realization seemed to be dawning upon the well- heeled crowd.

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One brave soul, a portly middle-aged man in an ill-fitting tuxedo, finally dared to approach as they made another lap of the main exhibits.

"You must forgive me for prying, madsam," he spoke up in a thick brooklynite accent, dabbing sweat from his brow. "But there's been a good amount of chatter this evening regawdin' your, ahh...identity?"

Vivian felt the curious eyes of the room boring into her back as if they could physically peel away her regal facade. She took a slow breath through her nose, pausing to adjust the necklace dripping crystals over the neckline of her gown.

"I am Vivian Shaw," she replied calmly, infusing her voice with as much hauteur as she could project. "Wife to Mathew Shaw, Head of the American Shaw family operations."

There, she had laid it out plainly and allowed the gasps and muttering to ripple through the assembled patrons. The art director looked like he might faint from excitement over entertaining such a connected figure without proper forewarning.

"Oh, but of course, of course...! The honor is truly ours, Mrs. Shaw!" He bustled over, palms raised in half-apology, half-placation. "Please, anything you or your esteemed husband's family require this evening..."

Vivian held up a hand, cutting him off smoothly though she already knew the man's excessive sucking up was likely to get worse tenfold.

"That won't be necessary. I'll enjoy perusing the exhibits at my leisure, thank you."

With that, she gave a curt nod and swept back off into the galleries, aimlessly roaming from one artwork to the next. Behind her, she could hear the frantic tittering and wild speculation as the news of her presence - and apparent status - fully sank in.

For the next hour, she moved in a strange bubble of deference, able to step up and examine any piece from just inches away while crowds of the city's elite parted ahead of her. No one dared approach inappropriately, though she could sense the air practically thrumming with unanswered questions. Just who was this woman who had seemed to materialize from nowhere into the Shaw family fold? And how had she achieved such obvious, ostentatious favor?

Increasingly agitated by the scrutiny and pageantry being put on display for her, Vivian found herself longing to retreat back to the solitude of that massive Hampton's estate Mathew had ensconced her within. She was no closer to comprehending his true intentions for her, yet her every appearance in public was rapidly metastasizing into high theater for consumption. Enough was enough - she refused to be paraded about like an prize filly any longer this evening. She turned on a heel and mutely signaled Joe that she wished to depart. Her bodyguard leapt into action without question, clearing thein a path back through the gaping

Chapter 256: Gala

throngs and out onto the museum's front steps.

Only once they'd pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic did Vivian allow herself to physically deflate back against the leather seat, pinching the bridge of her nose as if staving off the beginnings of a tension headache. Playing the role of an unbothered, haughty socialite was utterly exhausting.

Joe shot her a sidelong look through the rearview as he navigated them back toward the Hampton estate. "Everything alright back there?"

"It's nothing," she murmured, her fingers idly playing with the delicate diamond-studded chains around her throat. "Just starting to feel like...like this is all some ridiculous game to Mathew. As if he takes pleasure in parading me before people to see how they'll react."

Joe hummed noncommittally, leaving Vivian to simply stew in her own circling thoughts until they arrived back

at the palatial residence. As she mounted the front steps, her phone began buzzing with an incoming call. Fishing it from her purse, she noted with surprise that it was Maya's doctor phoning.

"Ms. Greyson, hi there," the kindly voice came through as soon as she accepted. "I have some excellent news - we were finally able to get Maya's surgery scheduled for first thing tomorrow morning!"

Vivian felt as though all the tension seemed to bleed from her body in a rush, leaving her lightheaded with relief. "Oh thank God... That's the best news!"

The doctor chuckled. "Yes, it will be such a blessing for that sweet girl to get her new lease on life. I'll be seeing you both bright and early then for the intake process.

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"You can count on it," Vivian replied fervently. "Thank you again, doctor. We'll be there." As she pocketed her phone and climbed the front steps, the residual bitterness over her objectification that evening evaporated. Whatever humiliations or discomforts she had to endure for Mathew's sake, they would pale in comparison to finally seeing Maya receive her life-saving treatment.

Perhaps she was being too harsh on Mathew, paranoid even. Deep down, she knew he was the one who had expedited and financed this entire process, using his wealth and connections to bend the system that had failed her for so long. For that alone, he should be absolved of her scorn and resentment.

Her steps were lighter as she crossed the gleaming foyer, already looking forward to seeing her sweet niece in the morning before her surgery. If nothing else, it was a reminder to keep her focused.

Chapter 257. Attacked.

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Chapter 257: Attacked.