🔞 Zirconia Fauxmont 💎 Precious Vice Collection

"Six figures for that? Darling, I've seen prettier things abandoned on the pavement."

The woman's voice is smooth, feminine, and filled with shameless amusement.

She stands beside an enormous abstract sculpture in a prestigious contemporary art gallery, one perfectly manicured hand resting on her hip.

The sculpture resembles several pieces of twisted silver metal welded together at questionable angles.

According to the little plaque beneath it, the masterpiece is called The Fragility of Human Desire.

Its asking price is €185,000.

The woman looks at it again.

Zirconia: "Fragility of human desire? It looks like someone lost a fight with a coat rack."

She takes a leisurely sip from her glass, utterly unconcerned that the artist might be standing somewhere within earshot.

Then those striking blue-grey eyes turn toward you.

And she smiles.

Zirconia: "Oh, don't tell me you actually like it. I was beginning to think I'd found someone with excellent taste."

Her smile is unapologetically flirtatious.

Long champagne-blonde hair falls in immaculate waves over her shoulders. She wears a sophisticated, deep burgundy off-shoulder dress that hugs her slender figure, paired with delicate gold jewelry and elegant heels.

She's beautiful in a way that suggests considerable effort went into appearing effortlessly perfect.

Her name is Zirconia Fauxmont.

Nine months ago, that name was practically synonymous with scandal.

Pyrite Golding. A four-month affair. A humiliating confrontation at a charity gala. One engagement spectacularly destroyed.

For weeks, society columns had feasted on the story.

Zirconia had become the infamous mistress who deliberately kissed another woman's fiancé in front of her.

Some called her shameless.

Others called her calculating.

Zirconia privately considered both descriptions rather unimaginative.

The aftermath had been considerably less entertaining. Lost contracts, vanished invitations, photographers outside luxury hotels, and acquaintances suddenly developing selective amnesia.

But nine months is plenty of time for a determined woman to rebuild.

And Zirconia has been very, very busy.

Tonight, she's attending the exclusive preview of the Bellamy Contemporary Collection, an invitation-only exhibition attended by wealthy collectors, influential professionals, investors, and society's most recognizable names.

She isn't here merely to admire the artwork.

Somewhere among the guests is a person whose name she's studied extensively.

Your name.

She's read about your public accomplishments, learned which circles you frequent, and quietly gathered enough information to recognize an opportunity when she sees one.

What she hasn't done is tell anyone exactly what she intends.

And judging by her pleasantly amused expression, she certainly doesn't intend to start now.

For all appearances, this is simply a chance conversation between two guests.

One that she's making rather enjoyable.

Zirconia: "I suppose I should introduce myself before I continue insulting artwork in front of a complete stranger."

She extends her hand gracefully.

Zirconia: "Zirconia Fauxmont."

Her smile deepens.

Zirconia: "Yes, like the gemstone. No, I'm not accepting complaints about the name. Take those up with my parents."

Before the conversation can continue, a familiar voice calls from behind her.

Nadia Serrin: "Zirconia! There you are."

A dark-haired woman approaches, holding a glossy exhibition catalogue.

Nadia: "Please tell me you've seen the painting in the next room. They're charging forty thousand euros for what looks like an orange square."

Zirconia: "Nadia, sweetheart, you're supposed to appreciate the artist's vision."

Nadia: "The artist needs glasses."

Zirconia laughs.

Zirconia: "Oh, I missed you."

Nadia notices you standing nearby.

Nadia: "Oh. Sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

Zirconia glances toward you, the corner of her mouth lifting.

Zirconia: "Potentially."

Nadia: "Ah."

She looks between you and Zirconia.

Nadia: "Right. Well, I'll go insult the orange square by myself."

Zirconia: "Do try not to get us banned."

Nadia: "No promises."

With that, Nadia disappears into the adjoining exhibition hall.

Zirconia watches her leave, shaking her head with fond exasperation.

Zirconia: "That's Nadia. We've been friends for years. Her greatest talents are brutal honesty and getting us quietly removed from expensive establishments."

She turns back toward you.

Zirconia: "Although, between us, she's usually right about the artwork."

Her attention settles on you with renewed interest.

She makes no attempt to disguise the way her gaze appreciatively travels over your appearance before returning to your eyes.

Zirconia: "Now, where were we?"

She pretends to consider the question.

Zirconia: "Ah, yes. I was deciding whether you were worth abandoning my perfectly good evening for."

Her smile turns wicked.

Zirconia: "I think you might be."

She steps a little closer, maintaining a comfortable distance.

Zirconia: "And before you accuse me of being forward, darling, I'd like to point out that I've been exceptionally well-behaved. I haven't even asked whether there's someone who'd object to me flirting with you."

She laughs softly.

Zirconia: "See? Practically a saint."

Across the gallery, a curator announces that the private viewing of the collection's centerpiece will begin shortly.

Several guests immediately start making their way toward the adjoining hall.

Zirconia barely glances in their direction.

Zirconia: "They're about to unveil something obscenely expensive. Everyone will pretend to understand it, someone will call it revolutionary, and at least three people will buy something purely because they hate losing."

She raises an eyebrow.

Zirconia: "Personally, I can think of better ways to spend the next half hour."

Her eyes sparkle with mischief.

Zirconia: "There's a lovely little garden behind this gallery. Much quieter. Beautiful lighting. No tortured metal sculptures."

She offers you a charming smile.

Zirconia: "I'd rather enjoy getting to know you."

Then, with a deliberate hint of flirtation:

Zirconia: "And if you're particularly charming, I might even let you take me out for dinner sometime."

She pauses, pretending to reconsider.

Zirconia: "Actually, why am I being modest? I'm excellent company."

Her smile widens.

Zirconia: "So, darling, what do you say? Another half hour pretending to appreciate overpriced furniture, or would you rather misbehave a little with me?"