Chapter 3 - The Gala of Ghosts
Two days later, the annual Sterling Foundation Charity Gala took place. It was the social event of the season, a playground for the elite, crawling with paparazzi and financial journalists.
Chloe had spent the last forty-eight hours blowing up my phone with crying voicemails and desperate texts. I had ignored all of them. Until 5:00 PM on the night of the gala, when I sent her a single message: Wear the red dress. Meet me at the venue. We need to keep up appearances.
When I arrived at the grand ballroom, she was waiting in the foyer. The red silk gown clung to her perfectly. She looked breathtaking, fragile, and deeply relieved when she saw me.
"Alexander," she breathed, rushing forward and wrapping her arms around my neck. Cameras flashed in the distance, capturing the perfect billionaire couple. "I was so scared. I'm so sorry about the other night. I was just stressed about the wedding planning..."
I smiled—a perfect, camera-ready smile—and placed my hand on the small of her back, guiding her into the ballroom. "We will discuss it later, Chloe. Tonight, we smile."
She beamed, mistaking my civility for forgiveness. "Of course, darling."
The evening proceeded flawlessly. We shook hands with senators, clinked champagne flutes with hedge fund managers, and posed for Vogue. Throughout the night, I watched her subtle movements. I noticed how her eyes darted toward the VIP lounge.
At 10:00 PM, I excused myself to take a "business call" on the terrace. Instead, I slipped into the shadow of a heavy velvet curtain near the VIP lounge.
Five minutes later, Chloe slipped out of the ballroom and entered the lounge. A man was waiting for her by the bar. Julian Thorne.
I tapped an app on my phone, activating the directional microphone I had slipped into Chloe's purse earlier that evening. Their voices piped directly into my earpiece.
"He kicked me out, Julian," Chloe whispered frantically. "He caught me with the old woman. He tore up the NDA."
"Did he call off the wedding?" Julian’s voice was sharp, impatient.
"No. He brought me here tonight. He's trying to avoid a scandal. He's soft, Julian. I can manipulate him back into submission. I just need more time."
"You don't have time," Julian hissed. "The wedding is in three weeks. Once you're his wife, you have unrestricted access to his private servers. I need the source code for the Artemis Project before the end of the quarter, or this whole operation is a bust."
"I'll get it," Chloe promised. "Just make sure the Cayman account is topped up. Dealing with his pathetic mother requires a bonus."
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I stopped the recording. I had the motive. I had the connection. I had the proof of corporate espionage.
I stepped out from behind the curtain and walked back into the ballroom, feeling entirely at peace. The guillotine was built. Now, I just needed to lower the blade.
