Chapter 5 - The Gala of Wolves
Three weeks after the incident with Victoria, the physical wounds on Lena’s shoulder had healed into a thin, pink scar, but the war surrounding Julian Vance was heating up.
The police had arrested the mastermind behind the cafe shooting—a corrupt corporate rival named Richard Hayes—but Hayes’s legal team was mounting a fierce campaign to discredit Julian and his witnesses before the grand jury trial. Rumors were being spread through social circles that Julian had staged the attack for publicity, or that Lena was a paid accomplice trying to extort money from the Vance empire.
To put an end to the destructive rumors and demonstrate absolute strength before the city's elite, Julian made a radical decision.
He announced he would attend the annual Metropolitan Benefactors Gala—the single most exclusive high-society event of the year.
And he was bringing Lena Moore as his official date.
"I can't go to that," Lena protested, standing in her room while two celebrity tailors adjusted a breath-taking sapphire blue silk gown around her body. "Julian, those people are real estate tycoons, politicians, old-money families. I'm a waitress who used to live in a two-room flat in Brooklyn!"
Julian stepped out from behind a curtain, dressed in a custom black tuxedo that made him look like a dark prince. He walked over to her, standing behind her as they both looked into the full-length floor mirror.
The contrast was staggering. Lena looked like a goddess—the deep blue silk of the dress highlighted her pale skin and warm brown eyes, her dark hair swept up into an elegant, timeless undo, revealing the delicate line of her neck.
"Look at yourself, Lena," Julian said softly, placing his large hands gently on her bare shoulders in the mirror. "You don't need money or titles to look like you own every room you walk into. You have something those people can never buy."
"What’s that?" she whispered, her pulse racing as his breath brushed her ear.
"A soul," he replied simply.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy velvet jewelry box. He opened it to reveal a jaw-dropping vintage necklace made of platinum and flawless sapphire diamonds that sparkled like stars.
Before she could object, Julian draped the heavy necklace around her neck, his warm fingers brushing against her collarbone as he fastened the clasp.
"This belonged to my grandmother," Julian murmured, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "She was a woman who rose from nothing to build an empire alongside my grandfather. She would have loved you."
When they arrived at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that evening, the scene was chaotic. Hundreds of news reporters and paparazzi stood behind velvet ropes, their camera flashes creating a blinding storm of white light as luxury limousines dropped off the city’s elite.
As Julian stepped out of the black armored vehicle, the press went wild, shouting his name.
Then, he turned around, reaching back into the car to offer his hand to Lena.
When Lena stepped out onto the red carpet, the sapphire diamonds sparkling under the lights, the entire crowd of reporters seemed to gasp in unison.
"Mr. Vance! Is this the woman from the cafe?!"
"Lena! Are you officially dating Julian Vance?!"
"Mr. Vance, what about the Hayes trial?!"
Julian paid no attention to the chaos. He kept his hand firmly wrapped around Lena’s waist, guiding her smoothly past the wall of cameras into the magnificent grand hall.
Inside, the ballroom glittered with gold, crystal chandeliers, and hundreds of high-society guests dressed in million-dollar couture. But as Julian and Lena walked down the central staircase, a heavy hush fell over the room.
Standing near the main bar were Victoria Sterling and her father, Arthur Sterling, along with several prominent board members of Vance Global. Their faces turned pale as they watched Julian navigate the crowd with the former waitress held close to his side.
"Look at her," Victoria sneered quietly to a group of socialites nearby. "Dressed up in dead women's jewels, pretending she’s royalty. It’s disgusting how Julian lets himself be manipulated."
Lena heard the loud whisper. She felt a momentary wave of panic, a desire to pull away and hide in the shadows. But then she felt Julian’s hand tighten protectively against her waist, giving her a subtle, reassuring squeeze.
Suddenly, an elderly man with silver hair and a sharp navy suit stepped out from a group of politicians, walking straight toward them. It was Judge Anthony Brooks—the chief presiding judge of the state appellate court, a man revered throughout the city for his absolute integrity.
"Julian," Judge Brooks greeted warmly, shaking Julian’s hand before turning his sharp gaze toward Lena. "And you must be Miss Lena Moore."
"Yes, Your Honor," Lena said politely, extending her hand.
Judge Brooks took her hand gently, bowing his head with deep, sincere respect. "I have read the police reports from the Romano’s Cafe incident, my dear. In thirty years on the bench, I have rarely seen an act of such selfless courage. You saved a child's life without a second thought for your own."
He turned to look at the surrounding crowd of wealthy guests who were watching from a distance.
"This city needs fewer politicians and more people with your heart, Miss Moore," Judge Brooks declared loudly, his powerful voice carrying across the quieted ballroom. "It is an honor to meet you."
A murmur of shock rippled through the high-society crowd. If Judge Brooks publicly praised her, no one in the room could insult her without making themselves look small.
May you like
Victoria Sterling looked as if she had swallowed glass, her face turning red with total humiliation as she backed away into the crowd.
Julian looked down at Lena, a proud, beautiful smirk touching his lips. "I told you," he whispered gently. "You own this room."
