Chapter 5 - THE GALA OF LIES
The ballroom of the Grand Regency Hotel was a sea of glittering crystal chandeliers, champagne flutes, and the city's highest elite. Over three hundred politicians, hospital board members, and billionaires mingled under the ambient glow, celebrating the annual Vance Foundation Fundraiser.
At the center of the main stage stood Richard Vance.
He was dressed in a pristine Italian tuxedo, a glass of vintage champagne in hand, laughing charmingly with the Chairman of the State Health Commission. He looked entirely untroubled, a man at the absolute pinnacle of his unearned power.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Richard's voice echoed through the house speakers as he took the podium. "Tonight, we celebrate not just our financial success, but our commitment to truth, medicine, and the protection of our community's most vulnerable."
A chorus of polite applause rippled through the room.
"As the incoming CEO of the Vance Medical Network," Richard continued, beaming arrogantly, "I promise to uphold the high moral standards established by my late uncle—"
CLANG.
The heavy mahogany double doors at the back of the ballroom slammed open, echoing like a gunshot through the vaulted space.
The applause died instantly. Three hundred heads turned toward the entrance.
I walked into the ballroom, my hand firmly holding Sarah’s on my arm. Behind us walked two uniformed state police officers and Marcus Sterling, carrying the thick leather binder.
Richard stopped speaking. His smile faltered, his face draining of color as his eyes locked onto Sarah. His hand tightened around the stem of his champagne glass so hard I thought the crystal would shatter.
"Julian?" Richard stammered into the microphone, trying to laugh off the interruption. "What is the meaning of this? This is a private foundation event—"
"It was a private event, Richard," I said, my voice carrying effortlessly across the silent room as we walked down the center aisle. "Until it became an active crime scene."
Murmurs erupted across the crowd. The Chairman of the Health Commission stepped back from Richard, looking alarmed.
"Are you insane?" Richard hissed, pulling the microphone away from his mouth slightly, though his raised voice still carried. "Security! Escort these people out!"
Four security guards stepped forward, but I didn't even look at them. I raised my hand, and my private security team—eight men in sharp suits who had entered behind us—stepped into position, blocking the venue guards with silent, imposing efficiency.
"Don't bother, Richard," I said, stopping right at the base of the stage. Sarah stood beside me, her head held high, her blue eyes locking onto her tormentor with terrifying stillness. "The security team outside works for Vance Enterprises. And as the majority shareholder, I just revoked your clearance."
"Julian, you're making a spectacle of yourself!" Richard sneered, though sweat was beginning to bead along his hairline. "Who is this woman? Some charity case you picked up off the street?"
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Sarah took a step forward, leaving my arm, and stepped up the small stairs of the stage.
"My name is Sarah Parker," her voice rang out clear, strong, and completely devoid of fear through the room. "And eight months ago, Dr. Richard Vance forced me onto the street because I refused to cover up his murder of sixteen-year-old Ethan Hayes."
