Chapter 6 - The Night of the Gala
The Metropolitan Museum of Art was draped in velvet and security checkpoints.
Outside on 5th Avenue, ten thousand spectators stood behind red velvet ropes, screaming as celebrities, billionaires, and European royalty arrived in a stream of black limousines.
Inside the Great Hall, Chloe stood near the grand staircase, wearing a dramatic emerald dress encrusted with ten thousand Swarovski crystals. She was surrounded by the board of directors of the Vance Conglomerate and several high-ranking city officials she had bought off.
"Don't worry," Chloe whispered to her lead investor, Mr. Sterling. "Lyra won't even make it past security. I personally made sure her credentials were revoked by the board this afternoon."
"Is that so?" a deep, commanding voice resounded from the top of the grand staircase.
The entire room turned.
Standing beside me at the top of the marble stairs was Lord Harrison Vance—my estranged grandfather, the original founder of the Vance empire who had been exiled to Europe fifteen years ago after Chloe’s father framed him for embezzlement.
Beside him stood twenty models, each clad in a piece from the Phoenix Collection.
The garments didn't just catch the light; they commanded it. Some dresses looked like frozen waterfalls of gold; others looked like deep space nebula woven from liquid obsidian. The craftsmanship was so flawless, so impossibly pristine, that three fashion editors in the front row began to cry openly.
"Grandfather?!" Chloe gasped, her face draining of all color. "You're... you're supposed to be in Geneva!"
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"I was in Geneva, Chloe," Lord Harrison said, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings as he leaned on his gold-headed cane. "Until my granddaughter sent me a single thread of this fabric... and proof that you burned down her boutique to cover up your own massive financial embezzlement."
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