Chapter 7 - The Gala of Secrets
The Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was bathed in shimmering gold lights and crystal chandeliers. Over five hundred elite guests—business moguls, politicians, and high-society socialites—chatted animatedly over champagne flutes.
Tessa Whitmore looked stunning in a emerald green gown, a multi-million dollar diamond necklace resting against her collarbone. She glided through the room beside her father, Richard Whitmore, receiving congratulations from everyone.
“Where is Rowan?” Richard Whitmore asked, sipping his whiskey, his eyes scanning the room. “The board announcement is in twenty minutes.”
“He’s probably just wrapping up at the office,” Tessa replied smoothly, though a subtle frown creased her brow. “He’s been acting a bit distant the last couple of days, but it doesn't matter. Once the merger documents are signed tonight, his opinion won't be required anymore.”
Suddenly, the grand double doors of the ballroom swung open.
I walked in, wearing a sharp black tuxedo. But I wasn't alone. Walking beside me, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a simple, elegant dark blue silk gown, was Maren. She carried herself with dignity, her head held high, looking every bit the queen she was meant to be.
The room went dead silent. Whispers erupted like wildfire throughout the crowd.
“Is that… isn’t that his ex-wife?”
“The one who cheated on him?”
“What is she doing here?”
Tessa’s face turned instantly pale. Her champagne glass trembled in her hand, nearly spilling over. She marched over to us, her heels clicking aggressively against the polished marble floor.
“Rowan! What is the meaning of this insult?” Tessa hissed under her breath, glaring violently at Maren. “Why did you bring this trash to our celebration?”
I didn't answer her. I simply offered Maren my hand, leading her toward the main stage where the microphone and presentation screens were set up for the corporate merger announcement.
Richard Whitmore stepped into our path, his face twisted in rage. “Rowan, you take this low-class whore out of here right now, or I will have security throw both of you into the street! The merger signed tonight depends on my approval!”
“Does it, Richard?” I asked, looking him dead in the eye with a terrifying calm.
I walked right past him, stepped onto the elevated stage, and tapped the microphone. The ringing noise echoed through the grand hall, silencing the murmurs of the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed members of the board,” I began, my voice clear and resonant. “Tonight was supposed to be a celebration of a merger between Vance Tech and Whitmore Enterprises. It was supposed to be the prelude to my marriage to Tessa Whitmore.”
Tessa rushed toward the stage, signaling frantically to the venue security. “Turn off his microphone! Cut the power!”
Mark and six heavily armed private security guards stepped out from the side doors, blocking venue security from reaching the stage.
May you like
“However,” I continued, taking a remote control from my jacket pocket, “before we sign any papers, I believe transparency is required for all our investors.”
I clicked the button.
