Chapter 7 - The Lion's Den
The Sterling Foundation Gala was the social event of the season, held at a palatial museum downtown.
Red carpets lined the grand entrance, flanked by flashing cameras and screaming paparazzi.
Billionaires, politicians, and celebrities strutted inside, eager to be seen rubbing elbows with the elite.
I arrived in a sleek, black limousine, but I wasn't alone.
Sitting across from me was my father, wearing a custom-tailored Tom Ford tuxedo that fit him flawlessly.
We had spent the entire morning at the finest barbershop in the city, trimming his hair and grooming his beard.
He looked distinguished, handsome, and every bit the powerful patriarch he truly was.
“You nervous, Dad?” I asked as the driver opened my door.
He adjusted his cufflinks, giving me a confident, knowing smirk.
“I survived thirty years in a steel mill, Jules,” he replied.
“A room full of snobs in fancy suits doesn't scare me one bit.”
We stepped out of the car, and the blinding flash of cameras immediately swarmed us.
Reporters shouted my name, demanding answers about Serena’s abusive allegations.
I ignored them all, placing a protective hand on my father’s back as we walked up the grand steps.
Security tried to stop us at the door, but I flashed a VIP pass I had purchased anonymously through a third party.
We walked into the lavish ballroom, the crystal chandeliers casting a golden glow over the sea of silk and diamonds.
Conversations stopped abruptly as people noticed my presence.
Whispers rippled through the crowd like a shockwave.
I spotted Serena immediately, standing near the main stage in a glittering crimson gown, surrounded by admirers.
Her smile vanished the second her eyes locked onto mine.
She whispered furiously to her father, who was standing nearby holding a glass of scotch.
Richard marched toward us, his face purple with absolute fury.
“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here, Vance,” Richard growled, keeping his voice low to avoid a scene.
“Security is on their way to drag you and your pathetic old man out into the alley where you belong.”
I didn't flinch, simply taking a sip from a passing waiter's champagne tray.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you, Richard,” I advised calmly.
“You are going to want me right here when the main presentation begins.”
May you like
Before he could respond, the lights in the ballroom dimmed, signaling the start of the charity auction.
It was time to bring the house down.
