Chapter 2 - The Vault DoorsThe sharp clack-clack of heavy steel bolts engaging echoes around the grand perimeter of the venue. A whisper spread through the crowd like wildfire as wealthy guests began backing away from the exits.
“What is going on?” Eleanor demanded, her voice rising an octave as she marched toward the main doors. “Why are the emergency locks engaging? Daniel, call the hotel manager immediately!”
Daniel pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen. “There’s no signal. The cellular network just went dead.”
“That’s impossible!” Chloe yelled, stomping her foot, her white dress rustling. “This is the Grand Plaza Metropolitan! My father’s company owns the building management contract!”
I stood silently near the grand pillar, pulling my torn fabric tight around my waist. The black metallic card that Chloe had tossed onto the floor was now tucked securely back into my pocket. They didn't know what it was. They thought the Grand Plaza belonged to the city’s elite real estate consortium.
They didn't know the entire Metropolitan complex was owned by Vance Global Holdings—my father’s private investment firm.
Four men in sharp black suits stepped out from the private service elevator near the stage. At the head of the team was Arthur Vance—my father. He was sixty-two years old, built like a fortress, with silver hair and eyes that could freeze steel. Beside him walked three corporate security guards and Mr. Harrison, the senior managing director of the entire hotel complex.
When Mr. Harrison saw me standing in the center of the room with a torn dress, clutching my pregnant belly, his face drained of every drop of color.
“Vivienne!” my father called out, his deep voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd.
He didn't look at the flower arrangements, the champagne towers, or the two hundred wealthy guests staring at him in confusion. He walked straight up to me, took off his heavy cashmere overcoat, and draped it gently over my shivering shoulders. He buttoned it up himself, shielding my torn gown completely.
“Are you hurt, baby?” he asked, his voice softening into a gentle murmur.
“I’m okay, Dad,” I whispered, resting my head against his shoulder for a second. “The baby is kicking.”
He patted my cheek, then slowly turned around to face the room. The warmth left his eyes instantly, replaced by a cold, predatory focus.
Daniel took a hesitant step forward, trying to force a polite smile onto his face. “Mr... Vance? I didn't know Vivienne’s family was attending tonight. There seems to be a slight misunderstanding with security—”
SLAP!
The sound of my father’s hand hitting Daniel’s face was like a gunshot. The impact sent Daniel staggering back two full steps, clutching his reddening jaw in shock.
“Daniel!” Eleanor screamed, rushing to her son's side. “How dare you lay a hand on my son! Do you have any idea who we are?! We are the Montgomerys!”
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Arthur Vance didn't even blink. He adjusted the cuffs of his bespoke suit jacket with terrifying calm.
“And you,” my father said, his voice dropping into a register that made the entire room freeze, “are five minutes away from complete financial liquidation.”
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