Chapter 13
The evening of the charity gala bathed the sprawling, elite city museum in a blinding display of orchestrated opulence. The bright, cinematic lighting was completely devoid of any muddy yellow tint, catching the vibrant colors of the priceless artwork lining the ivory walls. The atmosphere hummed with the sophisticated chatter of the city's political and corporate elite.
Clara stood near the VIP viewing deck, looking breathtakingly beautiful in a tailored navy evening gown that radiated aristocratic grace. Vincent stood a few paces away, a monument of lethal, masculine power in a flawless black tuxedo. His cold, unblinking eyes scanned the grounds, calculating every angle and blind spot.
Down in the main hall, Kaelen Voss arrived. He was a tall, scarred man in an unmarked tactical suit, slipping into the shadows, moving with the blunt force of a hired thug. He locked his eyes on the VIP deck and began marching directly toward Clara, entirely underestimating the family he intended to exploit.
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Vincent did not intervene immediately. He remained perfectly still, watching the trap spring exactly as he had engineered it. Voss approached Clara, a cruel, arrogant smirk playing on his lips. "Mrs. Hale," Voss sneered, his thick accent grating against the refined atmosphere. "Your empire is quite fragile. A single spark could burn it down."
Clara did not flinch. She met his gaze with absolute, freezing calm. "Do you believe a foundation built by the Hale family is intimidated by a man who hides in the dark?" Clara asked softly, shutting him down completely.
