Chapter 5 - The Gala Invitation

Friday evening arrived with the breathless elegance of a high-society winter storm. Outside the Grand ballroom of the Hawthorne Hotel, luxury sedans lined the curb as flashbulbs popped against the night sky.
Inside my dressing room, I stood before the full-length mirror. I wore a backless, floor-length black velvet gown that hugged my frame with quiet, devastating authority. My hair was swept up into a sleek chignon, and a diamond choker—part of the original Hawthorne estate collection—sparked at my throat.
My phone buzzed. A text from Grant: “Running late with a key investor, honey. Meet me in the VIP staging room behind the main ballroom at 8:00 sharp. Wear something nice.”
He still thought he was orchestrating my public obsolescence.
May you like
I checked my diamond wristwatch. 7:45 PM.
I picked up a manila folder containing the definitive legal documents, walked out of my suite, and stepped into the elevator. Tonight, the masquerade was ending.