Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Boardroom
The elevator ride to the 50th floor was completely silent, save for the soft, rhythmic chime of each passing deck. Sophia gripped my hand tightly, her small fingers warm against mine. She was looking at the glowing buttons, entirely unaware that the man we were going to see was currently trading her future away for a seat at a high-society table.
For seven years, I had watched Dominic build Vance Industries. I had met him when he was a stressed, broke developer operating out of a garage. I loved him enough to hide my family’s staggering wealth, wanting him to feel the pride of a self-made man. When his company was on the brink of bankruptcy three years ago, I quietly convinced my second brother, the banking mogul, to issue a twenty-million-dollar unsecured line of credit through a shell corporation.
Dominic thought he was a genius who had saved his own empire.
He had no idea he was living on my family's charity.
The elevator doors chimed and slid open, revealing a breathtaking, glass-walled penthouse ballroom. The room was dripping in luxury—ice sculptures, fountains of champagne, and the city’s elite dressed in tuxedos and evening gowns.
At the center of the room, standing beneath a massive crystal chandelier, was Dominic.
He looked devastatingly handsome in his custom-tailored tuxedo, a glass of vintage scotch in his hand, laughing heartily. Standing beside him was a stunning, blonde woman draped in diamonds—Helena Beaumont, the daughter of a notorious real estate tycoon. Snuggled against Helena’s side was an eight-year-old boy wearing a miniature tuxedo, whom Dominic was currently patting on the shoulder with paternal pride.
"To the future of Vance and Beaumont!" a wealthy investor shouted, raising his glass. "The ultimate merger!"
Dominic smiled, leaning down to kiss Helena’s cheek before raising his glass. "Thank you, everyone. This company was built on sacrifice, and tonight, we enter a new era of power."
"You certainly do, Dominic," my voice cut through the applause like a glass-shattering bullet.
The entire ballroom went dead silent. Hundreds of heads spun around toward the elevator entrance.
Dominic’s smile instantly froze. The color drained from his face in a spectacular, terrifying wave of panic as his eyes landed on me—and then down to Sophia, who was still holding her colorful paper necklace.
"Vivienne...?" Dominic stammered, nearly dropping his scotch glass. He took a frantic step forward, his eyes darting to the wealthy investors surrounding him. "What... what are you doing here? I told you tonight was a private corporate event! Why did you bring Sophia out in the rain?"
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Helena Beaumont narrowed her eyes, her aristocratic nose wrinkling in disgust as she looked at my inexpensive coat. "Dominic, who is this woman? And why is she interrupting our celebration?"
Dominic swallowed hard, his voice dropping into a desperate hiss. "She’s... she’s my assistant, Helena. A former consultant. She’s... she’s emotionally unstable. She’s been having trouble accepting her termination."
