Chapter 5 - The Gala
The Grand Ballroom at the Plaza Hotel was bathed in crystal light and filled with New York’s corporate elite. Billionaires, hedge fund managers, tech executives, and high-society journalists mingled over vintage champagne.
Flynn stood near the center of the ballroom, surrounded by four senior board members. He was smiling broadly, wearing a $10,000 tuxedo, pretending that the scandal of the century hadn't broken forty-eight hours earlier. Beside him stood Selina, wearing an elegant emerald green gown and—unbelievably—the very same $110,000 diamond necklace around her neck.
Flynn was betting everything on sheer bravado. He believed that if he acted unbothered, confident, and powerful, the board would back down and dismiss the leaked video as viral nonsense.
“It was completely blown out of proportion by disloyal mid-level staff,” Flynn was telling Lord Sterling, the chairman of the board, offering a hearty laugh. “Selina was simply helping me review confidential quarterly numbers late at night. The necklace was an official performance retention asset! Vance Global is stronger than ever!”
Lord Sterling looked skeptical, his arms crossed. “The stock dropped another four percent today, Flynn. The investors are furious. If you can't stabilize this narrative tonight, the board will call for a formal vote of no confidence on Monday.”
“Don't worry, Richard,” Flynn said smoothly, patting the older man’s shoulder. “I have total control of this company. My wife is fully supportive, and—”
Flynn froze. His words caught in his throat.
The heavy mahogany doors at the entrance of the ballroom swung open.
I walked inside.
I was wearing a floor-length, custom midnight-blue silk gown, my hair styled in an elegant, timeless updo. Around my neck was my late mother’s legendary sapphire pendant—a piece worth far more than anything Flynn had ever bought in his life. Walking beside me was Marcus Thorne, whose presence alone made several senior board members gasp in surprise.
Conversations across the ballroom died down. Head turns followed me as I swept smoothly across the marble floor.
Flynn’s face turned from flush red to deathly pale. He immediately stepped away from Lord Sterling and marched over to me, his teeth clenched in a furious whisper.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” Flynn hissed, grabbing my wrist firmly under his coat sleeve. “I cut off your cards! How did you get in here? Who gave you that dress?”
I gently, effortlessly twisted my wrist out of his grip and looked down at his hand as if it were a minor inconvenience.
“Keep your hands to yourself, Flynn,” I said softly, my voice carrying a terrifying calm. “You don't want to make a scene in front of Lord Sterling, do you?”
Selina strutted up behind Flynn, glaring at me with contempt. “Mabel, this is an exclusive executive event. Unemployed housewives aren't supposed to be here. You’re embarrassing Flynn!”
I looked Selina up and down, letting my gaze linger on the diamond necklace resting against her chest.
“You’re wearing my necklace, Selina,” I said with a faint, amused smile. “Enjoy it while you can. Modern security team protocols make it very difficult to wear stolen property into federal court.”
Selina’s eyes widened in shock. “How dare you—!”
“Flynn!” Lord Sterling walked over, looking between Flynn, Marcus Thorne, and me. “Marcus Thorne? What is the family’s legal counsel doing here?”
Flynn panicked, trying to step between Marcus and the Chairman. “Richard, this is just a personal family matter! Mabel is upset about some minor financial adjustments I made at home, and she’s trying to create drama—”
“This is not a personal matter, Lord Sterling,” Marcus Thorne interrupted, his voice echoing authoritatively across the quieted group of executives. “I am here as the legal representative of the majority shareholder of Vance Global.”
Flynn let out a nervous, mocking laugh. “Majority shareholder? What are you talking about, Marcus? I am the controlling shareholder of Vance Global! I own forty percent of the founder shares, and the public floats the rest!”
Marcus pulled a pristine leather portfolio from his coat, opened it, and handed a certified document directly to Lord Sterling.
“You are mistaken, Mr. Vance,” Marcus said loudly enough for surrounding journalists to hear. “You own zero controlling shares. Arthur Pendelton placed fifty-one percent of Vance Global’s master equity into the Pendelton Family Trust. You were merely an operational manager subject to trust compliance.”
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Flynn stared at Marcus, his brain struggling to process the words. “What... what are you talking about? Arthur died four years ago! Vance Global is MY company!”
“Vance Global was funded, structured, and legally secured by my father,” I stepped forward, looking Flynn directly in his terrified eyes. “You were never the owner, Flynn. You were just the husband I allowed to run it.”
