1.The crystal bowl slipped from my hands and shattered across the kitchen floor just as my husband walked into the room.

The Grand Ballroom of the Metropolitan Opera House was a spectacle of gold leaf, crystal chandeliers, and blinding camera flashes.

Over five hundred of the country's most powerful billionaires, politicians, and corporate executives mingled over champagne.

At Table One—the designated VIP table closest to the stage—Weston Prescott sat back in his leather chair, swirling a glass of vintage scotch.

Beside him, Victoria Vance smiled brilliantly for a nearby photographer, her arm resting casually against the back of Weston’s chair. Claudia Prescott sat on his left, her gold-plated evening bag resting on the crisp white linen.

“Are you sure the Chairwoman is coming tonight, Victoria?” Claudia asked, leaning over the table. “We’ve been sitting here for an hour, and nobody from Vanguard has made an appearance.”

“Relax, Claudia,” Victoria cooed, patting Claudia’s hand. “My contacts at Vanguard confirmed that the Chairwoman’s motorcade is on its way. I personally sent her secretary an invitation to sit with us. Once she sees Prescott Logistics’ growth figures, the contract will be signed before dessert.”

Weston took a slow sip of his drink, feeling the rush of absolute power.

“This fifty million is just the start,” Weston boasted quietly to a fellow logistics CEO sitting across the table. “Once Vanguard takes a minority stake, we’re acquiring the Northern Terminal. In two years, Prescott Logistics will be a billion-dollar company.”

“And what about your wife, Weston?” the CEO asked casually. “I thought Elowen usually attended these charity events with you.”

Weston scoffed, waving his hand dismissively.

“Elowen?” Weston laughed softly, shaking his head. “Elowen is a sweet girl, but she’s meant for small things. Housework, gardens, quiet dinners. Put her in a room like this with senators and foreign investors, and she freezes up. She broke a crystal bowl right before I left tonight just from nervousness.”

Victoria giggled softly. “Weston is being generous. Elowen just lacks... presence. Some women are born for the spotlight, and others are meant to stay in the background.”

Claudia nodded in agreement. “I told her tonight that she makes everything look ordinary. It’s sad, really. Weston needs a partner who can elevate him, not drag him down.”

At that moment, the house lights in the massive ballroom dimmed.

A spotlight hit the podium on the main stage. The president of the Meridian Heritage Foundation stepped up to the microphone, his voice echoing through the state-of-the-art sound system.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the host announced, his voice filled with reverence. “Tonight, we are honored to welcome the single largest philanthropic benefactor in our foundation’s history. The woman whose private fund has secretly backed forty percent of the commercial developments in this city...”

Weston straightened his jacket, adjusting his tie, a confident smirk spreading across his face. He nudged Victoria under the table.

“This is it,” Weston whispered excitedly. “Get the pen ready.”