Chapter 6 - The Aftermath in the Ballroom
With Evelyn Hart and Martin Shaw removed, an awkward, heavy tension settled over the grand ballroom. The three hundred remaining guests stood clustered in small groups, whispering frantically among themselves, unsure of whether they were allowed to leave or expected to stay.
Nathan Cole walked back to the center of the room and reactivated the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Nathan announced, his voice steady and commanding. "I apologize for the abrupt conclusion to the evening. The front gates are now unlocked. Valet services have been instructed to bring your vehicles around immediately. Security staff will assist you to your cars."
He paused, his eyes sweeping across the room with a stern, unyielding intensity.
"I would also strongly suggest," Nathan added, "that any member of the board of Hart Enterprises or their associated investment partners speak with their legal counsel before sunrise. Good night."
The message was crystal clear. Within seconds, the sea of high-society guests began moving rapidly toward the main exits, eager to distance themselves from the radioactive wreckage of the Hart empire. The quiet rustle of coats, the frantic tapping of smartphone screens, and the swift exit of the city's elite transformed the chaotic ballroom into an empty shell in less than fifteen minutes.
Soon, only the catering staff remained, standing quietly around the edges of the room in their uniform black vests, completely uncertain of what to do next.
The catering manager, a tall, nervously sweating man named Mr. Henderson, hurried out from the kitchen doors. His face was pale, his eyes darting wildly between the broken champagne glass still lying on the marble floor and Nathan Cole, who was standing alone on the dais.
"Mr. Cole!" Henderson stammered, wringing his hands together as he approached. "I am so horribly sorry for the disruption! I assure you, the temp agency we hired guaranteed us that these servers were fully trained! I will fire Miss Bennett immediately, and we will not bill you for tonight's service—"
"Henderson," Nathan interrupted, his voice cutting off the manager’s frantic rambling instantly.
"Yes, sir?"
"Shut up."
Henderson snapped his mouth shut so hard his teeth clicked.
Nathan walked down from the dais and approached the nervous manager. "Claire Bennett did nothing wrong tonight. She was bumped by another staff member, dropped a glass, and was then physically assaulted by my former fiancée."
"Of... of course, Mr. Cole, but the policy—"
"Your policy is irrelevant here," Nathan said flatly. "You will pay Miss Bennett her full wage for tonight's shift, along with a triple-time hazard bonus for every member of your catering crew who worked this event."
Henderson blinked, thoroughly confused by the direction the conversation was taking. "Triple-time, sir?"
"Did I stutter?" Nathan asked softly.
"No, sir! Absolutely, right away!" Henderson said, pulling out a tablet to make the adjustments immediately.
"And then," Nathan added, "you and the rest of the staff will pack up the kitchen and leave for the night. My personal staff will handle the remaining cleanup tomorrow morning."
"Understood, Mr. Cole. Thank you, sir." Henderson bowed slightly and scurried back toward the service corridor as fast as his legs could carry him.
Nathan turned around and looked toward the corner of the room where Claire was still standing. She had picked up a fallen cloth and was attempting to wipe a small streak of dark wine off her sleeve, her hands still trembling slightly from the residual shock.
Nathan walked over to her slowly.
"Miss Bennett," he said gently.
Claire looked up, her dark eyes wide and weary. "Yes, Mr. Cole?"
"Come with me," he said, gesturing toward the private hallway that led to the executive wing of the estate. "My personal physician is on site. I want him to look at your shoulder and ankle before you leave."
Claire hesitated, shaking her head slightly. "Oh, no, that's really not necessary, sir. I'm fine, it's just a couple of bruises—"
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"It wasn't a request, Miss Bennett," Nathan said, though his tone was entirely warm. "You were assaulted on my property during an event I hosted. The least I can do is ensure you aren't badly injured."
He extended his arm, inviting her to walk beside him. Claire looked at the open hallway, then back at her own worn work shoes. Exhausted, aching, and thoroughly overwhelmed by the insane chain of events, she finally nodded and stepped forward.
