CHAPTER 5: The Lion's Den
The grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was a sea of black tuxedos and diamond-encrusted gowns. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, old money, and whispered gossip. As Julian and I walked down the grand staircase, the ambient noise of the room dropped noticeably.
I wore a liquid gold silk gown that draped flawlessly over my silhouette, backless and daring, a stark contrast to the innocent, pure white wedding dress I had worn two days ago. My hair was styled in sleek, modern waves, and my posture was unyielding.
Julian held his arm out for me, his presence solid and reassuring. "Smile, Chloe. You own this room."
Almost immediately, the crowd parted, and there they were.
Eleanor Thompson stood near the center stage, holding a glass of champagne, surrounded by a court of adoring socialites. Michael stood beside her, looking miserable and exhausted, his eyes fixed to the floor. Next to him was Victoria, draped in emeralds, her hand possessively wrapped around his arm.
Eleanor turned, her eyes landing on me. Her smile vanished instantly, her expression hardening into absolute fury. She whispered something to the security guards nearby and marched directly toward us, Michael trailing behind her like a scolded puppy.
"How dare you?" Eleanor hissed, keeping her voice low but trembling with rage as she reached us. "How dare you show your face here after the disgraceful stunt you pulled? And with Julian Vance? Have you no shame at all?"
"Good evening, Eleanor," I said, my voice smooth and perfectly modulated. "You look lovely in violet. Oh wait, that was Tuesday. Today you look a bit... pale."
Several onlookers muffled snickers. Eleanor’s face flushed a dangerous shade of red.
"You are a classless, opportunistic little leech," Eleanor spat, stepping closer. "You thought you could embarrass my son? Look at him. He’s already moved on to a woman who actually belongs in our world. Your little media tantrum changed nothing. Tonight, we announce the merger. By midnight, your father’s little shipping company will be blacklisted from every major contract in the tri-state area."
"Mother, please," Michael muttered, finally looking up. His eyes met mine, a mixture of guilt, regret, and anger swirling in them. "Chloe... why are you doing this? Why are you with Vance?"
"Because Julian treats people like partners, Michael, not like collateral," I said, looking at him with nothing but pity. "I used to think you were just weak. Now I see you're just as hollow as your mother."
"Enjoy your little moment in the spotlight, Chloe," Eleanor sneered, signaling the security guards who were now standing just a few feet away. "Because I am having you removed from this venue immediately. You don't belong here."
"Actually, Eleanor, she does," Julian stepped in, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "I own twenty percent of the foundation hosting this gala. If you remove my guest, I will personally pull my funding, cancel the venue lease for your upcoming charity events, and initiate a full audit of the foundation’s books—starting with the offshore accounts you've been using to hide your Hudson Yards liabilities."
Eleanor went entirely rigid. The security guards hesitated, looking at Julian, then at Eleanor, before slowly stepping back.
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"You think you've won something?" Eleanor whispered to me, her eyes venomous. "The papers are being signed on that stage in ten minutes. The merger is finalized. You lose, Chloe."
"We'll see about that, Eleanor," I said, taking a sip of champagne from a passing waiter's tray. "The night is still young."
