Chapter 18 - The Final ExileBefore Beatrice could even draw another breath to scream, two burly security guards stepped forward, gently but firmly taking her by the arms.
"Get your hands off me! Do you know who I am?!" she shrieked, thrashing against them as they hauled her backward toward the grand exit doors. "This isn't over! I'll ruin you! I'll—"
Her voice faded away as the heavy oak doors swung shut, sealing her outside in the cold night air.
The ballroom remained utterly silent for a moment before Marcus raised his champagne glass, a brilliant smile breaking across his face. "To the true visionary of Vance Global," he announced smoothly. "To Elena."
A collective wave of applause erupted through the room—loud, enthusiastic, and genuine. Flashbulbs popped from financial journalists gathered near the press box, capturing the exact moment the old guard of toxic nepotism was permanently buried, replaced by a new era of absolute competence and power.
May you like
I raised my glass in response, offering a radiant, confident smile to the crowd.
The war was over. The empire was secure. And the woman they once looked down upon was now untouchable.
