The Thorne Heiress Unveiling Shadow novel Chapter 19

Aria's preparation for the Foundation Ball was less about getting ready for a party and more like a meticulously planned military campaign. Her bedroom became a command center, with mood boards, fabric swatches, and magazine clippings covering every surface. This was not a night for mistakes; it was a night for overwhelming force.

Her first objective was the dress. It had to be more than beautiful; it had to be a statement. It had to be unique, a weapon of such dazzling power that no one could look away.

Through a connection her mother had with a senior buyer at Bergdorf's—a connection Caroline had to beg and grovel to secure—Aria managed to get a private appointment with the representative for a famous, avant-garde French designer, Jean-Pierre Dufour. The meeting took place in a hushed, private salon, a sanctuary of champagne and silk where the price tags were never displayed.

Aria rejected half a dozen stunning gowns with a dismissive wave of her hand. They were beautiful, yes, but they were safe. Predictable. She needed something that would create a shockwave.

Then, the representative, sensing her desperation for the spectacular, unveiled "the one." It was a breathtaking creation called the "Starlight Gown." The dress was made of a unique, shimmering silver fabric that was woven with microscopic crystals, designed to catch the light like a thousand tiny stars. It was ethereal, dramatic, and, most importantly, exclusive.

"This is a one-of-a-kind piece, mademoiselle," the representative had assured her, with a theatrical French accent. "It was made for the runway finale in Milan. You will be the only woman in the world to wear it."

That was all Aria needed to hear. The price was astronomical, enough to make even Richard Sutton wince when Caroline called him, but Aria was relentless. "This is an investment in our future!" she had shrieked into the phone. "Do you want to be a laughingstock forever?"

Brittany followed suit: "I'm literally crying. Kaelen Blackwood won't be able to look at anyone else. You're the only woman in New York worthy of him. A true goddess!"

Aria read the comments, her lips curling into a smug, satisfied smile. The buzz was building, just as she had planned. She posted a picture of a diamond necklace she had "borrowed" from her mother's safe, then a Boomerang of her sipping champagne while a team of stylists fussed over her hair. Each post was calculated to build an image of supreme confidence and effortless luxury.

Her ego, already fragile from the recent humiliation, began to inflate like a hot air balloon. She wasn't just going to the ball to have a good time. She was going to erase Evelyn Thorne from the collective memory of New York society. She would be so radiant, so captivating, that the brief, bizarre episode with the private jet would be forgotten, dismissed as a strange dream. She truly believed it. In her mind, the night was already a resounding success. Her victory was assured, hanging before her in a garment bag, shimmering with promise.