Chapter 8 - The Ruin of Alex
The static camera zoomed in for an extreme close-up of Alex and Clara standing side-by-side.
Their faces were a study in absolute humiliation. Alex’s mouth hung open in an ungainly, pathetic gasp, his eyes wide and unblinking as he stared at the woman he had tried to buy for fifty grand. The suave, dangerous posture he had maintained all evening had collapsed entirely, leaving behind a terrified boy trapped in a dark tuxedo.
Clara looked no better. Her head was turned toward Alex, her expression a mix of horror, rage, and profound regret. She realized in that single second that her engagement to Alex was no longer a golden ticket to high society; it was a anchor dragging her down into financial and social ruin.
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Around them, the whispers of the other guests grew louder, turning into sharp, mocking chuckles. The very people who had smiled at Alex's cruel jokes minutes ago were now stepping away from his table, anxious to distance themselves from a man who had just publicly committed financial suicide.
The heiress took a step toward his table, her crystal heels clicking sharply against the marble floor like the ticking of an execution clock.
