Chapter 16 - The Gala of the Century
The Grand Ballroom of the Palmer House Hilton was blindingly opulent, glittering with crystal chandeliers, champagne towers, and hundreds of Chicago’s most influential leaders, politicians, and investors.
When I stepped through the grand arched double doors on the arm of Arthur Sterling, the entire room seemed to hold its collective breath.
Whispers rippled through the crowd like wind through tall grass. Mabel Vance. The woman who took down Vance Global. The founder of Phoenix Capital.
For years, I had been introduced at these exact same galas as Flynn Vance’s shadow—the polite, quiet corporate wife standing two steps behind her husband, smiling on cue.
Tonight, I walked alone in the spotlight. I wore an emerald-green velvet evening gown that swept dramatically across the marble floor, completely unbothered by the stares, the gossip, or the ghosts of my past.
The gala chairman, an elderly philanthropist who had snubbed me during the height of the scandal, rushed over with an overly eager smile.
"Mabel! My dear! It is so wonderful to see you," he gushed, holding out a hand. "We were so hoping Phoenix Capital would sponsor our keynote table this year."
I looked down at his outstretched hand for a beat before meeting his eyes with a polite, professional smile. "I'll have my director of corporate relations review your proposal next week, Richard. Provided your board meets our new transparency standards, of course."
May you like
His smile faltered slightly, but he nodded eagerly. "Of course, of course! Anything you need."
I turned away, gliding gracefully through the crowd, accepting drinks, handshakes, and nods of genuine admiration from people who had once whispered behind my back.
