Chapter 2: The Illusion of Royalty
The penthouse suite of the Four Seasons Miami was filled with the scent of lilies and expensive cologne. Derek Rivers stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, adjusting the cuffs of his bespoke Tom Ford tuxedo. Despite the luxury surrounding him, a persistent, gnawing anxiety was chewing at the lining of his stomach.
Simone hadn't answered a single text. Her location on her phone had been turned off the second she landed in Chicago.
"Darling, stop pacing. You’re ruining the vibe," Tiffany Blake purred, stepping out of the walk-in closet. She was a vision of destructive vanity, poured into a backless emerald silk gown that clung to every curve. Around her neck sat a diamond snake necklace—a piece she had practically forced Derek to charge to his corporate expense account the previous week.
"She’s not answering, Tiff," Derek muttered, rubbing his temples. "If she goes to the press, or if she shows up at the gala tomorrow looking like a victim, Cameron will castrate me. You shouldn't have pulled her hair. There were people watching."
Tiffany rolled her eyes, walking over to pour herself another glass of vintage champagne. "Oh, please. Those hedge fund managers won't say a word to anyone. They need your corporate backing too much. And Simone? What is she going to do? Run to her little lawyer sister? Cry to her grandmother on the South Side?"
She walked up behind Derek, wrapping her manicured arms around his neck, leaning her chin on his shoulder as they both looked into the mirror. "You are the golden boy of Rivers Industries, Derek. Cameron handles the tech, but you are the public face. The board loves you. In two months, when the restructuring happens, you’ll be co-CEO. Simone was a starter wife. A charity case from your youth. It’s time you start acting like the king you are."
Derek looked at his own reflection. Her words were like a narcotic, smoothing over the jagged edges of his conscience. She was right, he reasoned. He had given Simone five years of luxury. He had bought her a mansion in Gold Coast. So what if he had a mistress? It was the cost of doing business at this level. Simone should have known her place. She should have remained quiet in the back of the plane instead of causing a scene in front of his associates.
"She looked ridiculous anyway," Tiffany whispered, kissing his jawline. "Dressed in that cheap navy fabric, holding her stomach like she's the only woman in the world to ever get pregnant. You deserve a queen, Derek. Not a liability."
"Yeah," Derek said, his voice hardening as he finally convinced himself of his own lie. "Yeah, you're right. She overreacted. If she wants to play hide-and-seek, let her. She’ll come crawling back when the credit cards get declined."
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. Derek snatched it up, hoping it was an apologetic text from his wife. Instead, it was an email from Cameron’s executive assistant, Jennifer.
Subject: Mandatory Attendance: Rivers Industries Annual Gala & Global Innovation Announcement
Mr. Rivers, Per the Chairman’s explicit directive, your presence, alongside all primary shareholders and their designated guests, is required at 7:00 PM tomorrow at the Chicago Symphony Center. The seating chart has been locked by the Chairman’s office. No exceptions.
Derek let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He smiled, showing his teeth. "See? Cameron just sent out the mandatory notice for the gala tomorrow night. He specifically noted 'designated guests.' That means he knows about us, Tiff. He’s acknowledging you."
Tiffany squealed with delight, pressing her lips to his. "I told you! Cameron is a businessman. He understands that a man of your stature needs a woman who matches his energy. Oh, I can’t wait to see the looks on the board members' faces when I walk in on your arm."
"We fly out at dawn," Derek said, his confidence fully restored. He felt a sudden surge of adrenaline, the lingering guilt about Simone evaporating into the humid Miami night air. He was a Rivers. He was untouchable.
Little did Derek know, back in Chicago, his brother was currently looking at a live digital map of the private jet’s scheduled return flight. Beside Cameron, an IT specialist was uploading a massive, encrypted media file directly to the central server of the Chicago Symphony Center—the venue hosting the gala.
"Is the media firewall bypassed?" Cameron asked, his voice deadpan.
May you like
"Completely, Mr. Rivers," the technician replied, wiping sweat from his brow. "The venue’s production team thinks it’s the standard corporate highlight reel. Once it triggers at 8:15 PM during the keynote, it cannot be overridden manually from the local booth. The master command is locked into your personal device."
Cameron nodded once. He looked out the window at the rain-slicked streets. "Good. Let them fly high tonight. The fall is always spectacular when you don't see the ground coming."
