Chapter 8: The Actress Who Stole Everything

Three days after ending her turbulent relationship with Zachary Taylor, Raviah Solomon stepped through the gilded glass doors of the Grand Regent Hotel.

The air inside was heavy with the rich scent of gardenias and expensive perfumes, masking the underlying rot of a society mere months away from total collapse.

Raviah had initially intended to decline the invitation to the annual medical charity gala. Under normal circumstances, she would have preferred to spend her evening reviewing surgical journals, organizing regional grain shipments, or finalizing security blueprints for her fortified farm.

Yet, Raviah understood the brutal necessity of maintaining public appearances. Six full months remained before the apocalypse would shatter human civilization, and she could not afford to draw suspicion while quietly acquiring medical supplies, heavy machinery, and emergency stockpiles.

Her high-heeled shoes clicked softly against the polished marble floor as she made her way into the main hall. The ballroom glittered beneath massive crystal chandeliers that threw fragments of warm light across the crowded room.

Wealthy investors, prominent surgeons, high-ranking politicians, and screen celebrities mingled beneath soft orchestral music.

Raviah adjusted the train of her floor-length black silk gown, her calm posture radiating quiet authority. Several familiar colleagues immediately turned toward her, their faces lighting up with recognition.

As one of the country’s most respected surgeons, she was thoroughly accustomed to being the center of attention in high society.

Tonight, however, she swept past the eager nods with cool indifference, her dark eyes scanning the perimeter of the room. Her gaze cut through the swirling crowd until it locked onto a figure near the raised press stage. There she was.

Carmela Bane stood amidst a circle of mid-tier film executives, her silver sequined dress catching the light with excessive desperation. The gown was far too ostentatious for a woman of her modest professional standing, but it served its purpose of attracting idle glances.

Raviah’s dark eyes narrowed into cold, calculating slits. She watched the woman tilt her head and emit a delicate, practiced laugh that did not reach her sharp, ambitious eyes.

This was the woman who had hidden behind Zachary’s broad back while the world dissolved into ash and blood. This was the woman who had stood in a pristine white coat while Raviah bled out on the icy floor of a ruined hospital.

She was the same parasite who had shed fake tears, convincing a mob of starving survivors that Raviah was hoarding life-saving antibiotics for herself. At this moment in time, however, Carmela was nothing more than an obscure, struggling starlet searching for her big break.

She had landed minor roles in forgotten television dramas, but she lacked both the talent and the backing to secure a major lead. Her public smile was sweet and wide, yet her eyes constantly roamed the ballroom like a starving predator seeking a host.

Carmela turned, her gaze accidentally colliding with Raviah’s impassive face. A flash of startled surprise crossed the actress’s features before she instantly smoothed it over with a wide, radiant smile.

"Doctor Solomon!" Carmela called out softly, gliding across the floor with delicate, calculated steps.

She paused a few feet away, her hands lightly clasped in front of her glittering gown. "I truly did not expect to see you attending a party like this tonight."

Raviah reached out and calmly lifted a flute of sparkling water from the tray of a passing waiter. "I received an invitation, Miss Bane."

Carmela let out a melodic, airy giggle, gently patting her own collarbone. "Of course you did. Someone as immensely accomplished and famous as you would naturally be at the top of every guest list."

The compliment sounded sweet, but the faint tightening around Carmela’s lips exposed the underlying envy. Raviah merely offered a polite, distant smile, taking a small sip of her water.

Carmela’s eyes flicked conspicuously toward the empty space at Raviah’s side. "Are you attending the gala all by yourself this evening?"

"Yes," Raviah replied simply.

"Oh dear," Carmela murmured, her eyebrows pinching together in a display of exaggerated sympathy that failed to hide the gleam in her eyes. "That is such a shame. I naturally assumed Zachary would be accompanying you as your date."

Raviah set the crystal glass lightly on a nearby high-top table. "He was not invited."

Carmela’s bright smile stiffened for a fraction of a second. "I see."

She tilted her head, inspecting Raviah’s calm expression with probing curiosity. "I do hope everything is remaining pleasant between the two of you. You always looked so terribly devoted whenever I saw you together."

Raviah looked down at the actress, her gaze cold and piercing. "I suppose you would be keeping close track of that."

Carmela blinked, her delicate composure faltering under the sudden intensity of Raviah’s eyes. "I beg your pardon? What do you mean by that?"

"It was merely an observation," Raviah said smoothly, turning her attention back toward the glittering crowd.

Carmela shifted her weight, her manicured nails digging slightly into her silver clutch as she studied the doctor’s profile. "Actually, I happened to hear a faint rumor that there might have been a slight misunderstanding between you and Mr. Taylor recently."

Her voice dropped an octave, adopting the intimate tone of a trusted confidante. "I would simply hate to see you make an impulsive decision over a minor disagreement."

Raviah almost let out a cold laugh right then and there. A minor disagreement...

That was precisely how Carmela would minimize every horror in the years to come. The brutal betrayal, the stolen medical caches, the calculated murder, and the fallen sanctuary would all be reduced to simple misunderstandings in her narrative.

Raviah could still hear the woman’s trembling, fake voice echoing through the ruined hospital ward. I only asked for one dose of medicine for the children, she had sobbed to the mob. She kept everything locked away in her private office for herself.

Looking at the starlet now, Raviah felt her fingers tighten around the stem of her glass. A dark, primal urge flickered in her chest to tear down the veil right here.

She could publicly expose Carmela’s shameless overtures toward Zachary before the media. She could utterly ruin the woman’s reputation before she ever managed to build one.

Yet, Raviah quickly smothered the hot spark of anger beneath cold logic. Wasting precious energy on a parasite was an unnecessary distraction.

Carmela had no idea that the sky would tear open in six months. She did not know that the currency she coveted would soon become worthless paper, or that Raviah had already lived through her pathetic act.

Let the actress remain comfortable in her petty vanity. Let her believe that her quiet manipulations were succeeding. Raviah had a kingdom to build, a fortress to fortify, and a general to find.

"I deeply appreciate your concern, Miss Bane," Raviah stated, her voice smooth and completely devoid of warmth.

Carmela smoothed her dress, offering a sweet, triumphant grin. "Of course, Doctor Solomon. We women must always look out for one another in these harsh times."

Raviah stared at her for a prolonged, heavy silence. "Yes. We certainly should."

A subtle, dangerous edge in Raviah’s tone caused the hair on Carmela’s arms to stand up. The actress took an instinctive half-step back, her smile faltering under the doctor’s unreadable stare.

Before Carmela could probe any further, a loud voice called out from the center circle. "Carmela! Over here, my dear! I want to introduce you to the senior producer from Vanguard Pictures!"

Carmela’s face instantly brightened, her ambition overpowering her sudden unease. "Oh! Please excuse me, Doctor Solomon."

She turned swiftly and glided toward the producer, her silver dress glittering beneath the crystal lights. Raviah watched her back until she was swallowed by the sea of tuxedos.

The actress was completely blind to the reality that her greatest advantage had already dissolved into dust. She no longer possessed Raviah’s blind trust, nor would she ever enjoy the luxurious protection of Zachary’s future fortune.

Raviah placed her untouched glass on a passing tray and turned toward the grand exit. She had shown her face, established her presence, and had no further business among ghosts.

Near the center of the room, Carmela paused and glanced over her shoulder. Her fake, innocent smile evaporated the moment she saw Raviah’s tall figure disappearing through the glass doors.

Her eyes narrowed as a cold knot of dread tightened in her stomach. Something was fundamentally wrong with Raviah Solomon.

In every previous encounter, the doctor had been polite, gentle, and almost foolishly accommodating. Tonight, however, there had been no warmth, no possessive jealousy over Zachary, and not a single trace of insecurity.

It was as if the doctor was looking at a corpse. The unsettling realization sent a chill down Carmela’s spine, forcing her to step away from the producers and slip into a quiet service corridor.

Checking both ends of the hallway to ensure she was entirely unobserved, she pulled her smartphone from her clutch. She quickly navigated to her private contacts and selected a familiar name.

The phone rang four times before the connection clicked open, bringing a deep, impatient sigh through the speaker. "Hello?"

Carmela pressed the phone tightly against her ear, lowering her voice to an urgent whisper. "Zachary, it’s me. We need to talk immediately."

There was a brief, heavy silence on the other end of the line. "Is this about Raviah?"

Carmela’s dark eyes narrowed as she stared at her own reflection in the corridor glass. "Yes."

She took a sharp breath, her manicured nails digging into the smartphone case. "Something has completely changed about her."