Chapter 6 - BETRAYAL AT THE CORE
The penthouse ballroom of the Manhattan Plaza Hotel glowed under the light of massive crystal chandeliers. Three hundred of the city’s most influential figures—senators, foreign ambassadors, wall street titans, and shipping moguls—chattered over vintage champagne.
Julian Cross stood near the center stage, wearing a bespoke tuxedo, accepting condolences and premature congratulations with a practiced, solemn expression.
"Damian is resting comfortably at the estate," Julian told a group of board members, dabbing his eyes with a silk handkerchief. "The doctors say his heart is giving out. The aortic graft is failing. It breaks my heart to take the reins under such tragic circumstances, but Cross Maritime cannot appear leaderless in front of the international markets."
"You're doing the responsible thing, Julian," whispered Arthur Vance, the chairman of the board. "The stock is dropping. We need to vote on the leadership transfer tonight before the market opens tomorrow."
"I agree," Julian sighed with heavy theater. "I will take the podium at nine. We’ll call the emergency proxy vote."
Across the room, disguised in a tuxedo with an earpiece, Marcus moved among the crowd, murmuring into his cuff: "Target is on stage in five minutes. Board members are assembled. The trap is set."
Downstairs in the private underground parking garage, a convoy of three armored black Maybachs rolled to a halt.
Damian Cross stepped out. He looked immaculate—tailored black dinner jacket, crisp white shirt, his hair styled, color vibrant in his cheeks. Standing beside him was Alina, dressed in an elegant navy-blue evening gown that Damian had bought for her that afternoon, holding Sophia’s hand. Sophia wore a pretty white dress with a yellow ribbon tied in her hair.
"Are you ready, Sophia?" Damian asked, kneeling beside her.
Sophia smiled bravely and nodded. "The pond water people are going to get in trouble, right?"
"Very big trouble," Damian smiled.
May you like
He took Alina’s hand, offering her his arm. She looked at him with complete trust, her head held high. Together, flanked by four plainclothes federal marshals and two armed security details, they entered the private express elevator to the penthouse ballroom.
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