Chapter 4 - Gathering of the Elite
The Grand Aster Hotel was the beating heart of Manhattan’s high society. Tonight, its grand ballroom was bathed in warm gold lighting, lit by massive Baccarat crystal chandeliers that cost more than small estates. The floor was filled with foreign ambassadors, tech tycoons, Wall Street titans, and media moguls dressed in white-tie attire.
Camera flashes strobed continuously outside the red carpet as a fleet of Rolls-Royces and Bentleys dropped off the world's most powerful figures.
At 8:00 PM, David Thorne walked through the heavy mahogany doors, flanking Chloe on his left arm and his mother, Martha, on his right. David held his chin high, nodding arrogantly at passing business associates, puffing out his chest like a king inspecting his domain.
“Look at them staring, David,” Chloe whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder, her hand resting heavily on his arm. “They know you’re the rising star of New York.”
“Soon, we’ll be standing above all of them,” David boasted under his breath.
They made their way toward Table 1—the prestigious table placed directly in front of the elevated central dais. On the table rested a crystal plaque reserved for the evening’s guest of honor: MR. HARRISON STERLING.
“Where is the old man?” Martha asked, looking around the room with sharp, predatory eyes. “Is he here yet?”
“He should be arriving shortly,” David said, motioning to a waiter to bring three glasses of champagne. “I heard his private jet landed at JFK an hour ago. When he walks in, Chloe, make sure you look warm and family-oriented. Harrison Sterling is known to value family values.”
Chloe let out a soft laugh. “Family values? Like that brat Lily? Thank God we threw her out with her mother. She would have ruined my dress again with her sticky hands.”
“Speaking of that brat,” Martha sneered, taking a sip of wine, “I’ve already contacted my lawyer. We’re going to file for full custody of Lily next week.”
David looked at his mother, surprised. “Custody? Why? You hate the kid.”
Martha gave a wicked, calculating grin. “Because Kate has no money to fight a custody battle. If we take the kid, we can force Kate to sign a non-disclosure agreement so she never speaks to the press about your divorce. Plus, a daughter looks good for corporate philanthropy.”
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Before David could reply, the grand brass trumpets at the entrance sounded a crisp, commanding fanfare.
The entire ballroom fell dead silent. Conversations died out instantly as three hundred of New York’s most powerful people turned toward the entrance, their faces filled with profound respect and awe.
