Chapter 8 - The Gala of Ruin
The annual Vance Global Industries Gala was the most exclusive event of the winter season. Held in the grand ballroom of the city’s premier luxury hotel, the room sparkled with crystal chandeliers, expensive champagne, and the city’s elite dressed in high fashion.
Julian made a grand entrance down the sweeping marble staircase, but it wasn't his presence that made the hundreds of elite guests gasp in absolute shock—it was the young girl walking beside him.
Hannah wore an exquisite, custom-made ivory silk dress with delicate lace trim, her dark hair swept back in an elegant half-up style. She looked like a young princess. Julian held her hand firmly, his posture commanding and unyielding, daring anyone in the room to utter a single negative word.
Whispers erupted instantly like a swarm of angry hornets.
"Is that the street rat?"
"He actually brought her here... has Julian lost his mind?"
"Look at Victoria—she looks furious."
Victoria stood near the edge of the ballroom, wearing a triumphant, wicked smile. She raised her glass of champagne as Marcus Thorne stepped out from the shadows near the press gallery.
Before Julian and Hannah could even reach the reception floor, the massive double doors burst open. A horde of reporters, cameraguns flashing blindingly, swarmed into the ballroom, shouting over one another.
"Mr. Vance! Is it true you adopted a homeless vagrant to cover up a tax shelter?"
"Mr. Vance! Reports just broke online detailing the girl's juvenile delinquency records! Did you buy her silence?"
"Mr. Vance! The board has called an emergency vote to strip you of your CEO title tonight!"
Flashes blinded the room. Cameras zoomed in on Hannah’s pale, terrified face. The old trauma flared up instantly—the noise, the judgment, the feeling of being hunted. Hannah stumbled backward, her breath catching in her throat.
Before the reporters could close in, Julian moved with lightning speed. He swept Hannah behind his broad back, stepping directly into the blinding wall of camera flashes. His face was a mask of cold, terrifying fury—the face of a dragon guarding its hoard.
"Back off," Julian roared, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling with such explosive authority that the entire ballroom fell dead silent instantly. "Any photographer who takes another step closer to my daughter will find themselves facing a multi-billion-dollar lawsuit before midnight."
"She's not your daughter, Julian!"
A sharp, venomous voice cut through the silence. Victoria stepped forward from the crowd, her face twisted in fake sorrow and righteous indignation.
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"Look at the evidence Marcus Thorne just distributed to the press," Victoria announced loudly, holding up a tablet. "Julian falsified compliance documents, hid her true background from the board, and abused his executive authority to smuggle a stranger into our family dynasty. He is unfit to lead Vance Global Industries!"
Murmurs of shock rippled through the elite crowd. Marcus Thorne stepped forward with a smug, victorious grin, ready to deliver the final blow.
