Chapter 7 - The Grand Entrance
The ballroom of the Drake Hotel was a sea of tuxedos, glittering gowns, and clinking champagne glasses.
Beatrice Wexler stood near the central stage, surrounding herself with prominent board members and media executives. Beside her stood Clara Vance, wearing a bright pink designer dress, smiling brightly as photographers snapped pictures.
"He'll be down shortly," Beatrice assured Clara, taking a sip of her champagne. "Adrian knows his duty to this family. Once he sees the board's sentiment tonight, he will make the right choices."
Standing near the open bar on the opposite side of the room, Richard Marlow was holding court with three city council members.
"We're looking to break ground on the Oakridge site by spring," Richard said loudly, slapping one of the councilmen on the shoulder. "A high-end residential complex! It'll revitalize the tax base, get rid of that eye-sore library, and bring real class to the neighborhood."
Julianna stood beside her father, fanning herself lazily. "Dad, look at the entrance. Isn't that Adrian Wexler coming down?"
Richard turned, eager to catch the billionaire's attention. "Ah, perfect! Let me introduce myself before Beatrice corners him."
The double doors at the top of the grand marble staircase swung open.
The master of ceremonies stepped forward, clearing his throat into the microphone. "Announcing the Chairman of the Wexler Group, Mr. Adrian Wexler, and his guest of honor, Miss Evelyn Marlow!"
A wave of hushed chatter swept across the room as the crowd turned toward the staircase.
Julianna’s champagne glass slipped slightly in her hand. "Wait... who did he just say?"
Richard froze, his eyes widening in complete shock.
At the top of the stairs stood Adrian Wexler. But it was the woman on his arm that caused every conversation in the grand ballroom to abruptly die.
Evelyn descended the stairs with effortless grace, the emerald silk of her dress pooling around her feet like liquid glass. Her posture was regal, her face serene, and her scar was framed not as a flaw to be hidden, but as a striking, unforgettable feature of her beauty.
Beatrice’s jaw dropped open, her champagne glass freezing halfway to her mouth. Clara Vance gasped, turning to Beatrice in horror.
"Is that... is that Evelyn?!" Julianna choked out, her face flushing crimson with jealousy and rage. "That's impossible! She looks like..."
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"She looks like royalty," one of the city councilmen whispered beside Richard, entirely unaware of the family connection. "Who is she, Richard? Is she related to you?"
Richard couldn't speak. His mind was spinning out of control. The daughter he had cast aside, the stepdaughter he had treated like an embarrassing ghost, was walking into the most exclusive event in the state on the arm of the most powerful man in the city.
