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THE BILLIONAIRE’S KENNEL: The Shocking Secret of the Little Girl at the Gate / Chapter 5 / 8

Chapter 5 - The Confrontation at the Gala

With a roar of effort, Max kicked Thomas in the face with his free boot. Thomas lost his grip, screaming as he fell back down the dark shaft, crashing onto the top of the elevator cabin far below.

Max scrambled into the study and slammed the heavy oak door shut, locking it. He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, his suit ruined.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked, her eyes wide.

"I’ve been better," Max breathed. "But we can't stay here. Vance’s men will have the perimeter blocked. We need to go somewhere they won't expect us. Somewhere Vance is completely exposed."

"Where?"

Max looked at his watch. 10:00 PM. "The annual Heritage Tech Gala. It’s happening downtown tonight. Vance is hosting it. He thinks he’s celebrating his final victory."

An hour later, a sleek, black backup SUV—which Max kept hidden in a separate underground garage—roared out of a secret exit on the lakefront. Max was at the wheel. Lily sat in the passenger seat, wearing a clean, tailored suit Max had found in his guest wardrobe, her hair tied back. She looked like a miniature executive.

"We walk in through the front door," Max said as the city lights of Chicago loomed ahead. "He has security, but he won't risk a public scene in front of the mayor, the media, and every major investor in the country."

"And then what?" Lily asked.

"Then, we show them who Richard Vance really is."

As they pulled up to the glittering entrance of the grand ballroom, paparazzi flashes blinded them. Max stepped out, smoothing his jacket. He turned and opened the door for Lily.

The crowd went silent. The billionaire titan, Maxwell Foster, arriving with a mysterious, fiercely focused young girl.

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The ambulance siren wailed in the distance, a rising shriek that cut through the rainy night like a knife. I didn't wait for them. I held Arianne against my chest, feeling the terrifyingly erratic rhythm of her pulse, and bolted down the grand mahogany staircase.

The ambulance siren wailed in the distance, a rising shriek that cut thr...

The heavy cabin door hissed shut behind me, sealing in the scent of expensive cologne, manufactured corporate harmony, and betrayal. As I stepped back onto the sun-baked tarmac of the private aviation terminal, the stifling afternoon heat hit me like a physical blow. Behind the thick, tinted glass of the jet's windows, I could see Carter’s silhouette—his jaw set in that familiar, arrogant angle of a man who believed he had just successfully disciplined a disobedient pet.

The heavy cabin door hissed shut behind me, sealing in the scent of expe...

Warren Voss stepped out from the shadow of the mahogany foyer, his silk robe catching the ambient light of the crystal chandelier. His expression carried the lazy, casual irritation of a man whose evening had been mildly inconvenienced by a stray dog, not the towering gravity of a situation where an old farmer stood on his porch holding a notched aluminum bat.

Warren Voss stepped out from the shadow of the mahogany foyer, his silk...

Inside the ballroom, Richard Vance stood on the stage, a champagne glass in hand, smiling warmly. But when his eyes locked onto Max and Lily walking down the center aisle, his smile shattered like glass.

Hook: Vance’s hand trembled, spilling champagne onto his pristine white cuff. He realized his trap hadn't just failed—the prey had walked right into his castle, and they brought the media with them.

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