Chapter 5 - The Gala Trap
By the following evening, the mansion had been transformed into a glittering palace of wealth and hypocrisy. Chandreliers cast a blinding, diamond-like brilliance over the grand ballroom downstairs, where politicians, socialites, and corporate executives mingled in designer gowns and tailored tuxedos, sipping champagne and laughing over hollow platters of caviar.
Upstairs in the quiet sanctuary of the bedroom, I stood before the full-length mirror, staring at my reflection. Instead of my faded, worn-out clothes, I wore a sleek, elegant emerald-green evening gown that Julian had had secretly delivered to my room that morning, along with a pair of delicate diamond drop earrings.
"You look stunning," Julian said quietly as he rolled his chair out from the adjoining bathroom, dressed in a sharp tuxedo that accentuated his broad shoulders and commanding presence. "Like you belong here. Like the woman you were always meant to be."
"I don't belong here, Julian," I murmured, smoothing the fabric of the dress nervously. "I belong in a cramped apartment with a bucket catching rainwater. This... this is a fairy tale built on a graveyard."
"It's a battlefield," Julian corrected, his voice sharp and steady. He unlocked the drawer of his desk and pulled out a small, sleek flash drive, handing it to me. "The charity gala is in full swing. Marcus is currently giving his opening speech in the ballroom. The main server room is on the ground floor, at the end of the east corridor. The security guard stationed outside takes a smoke break every twenty minutes at precisely 8:15 PM."
I took the flash drive, my fingers brushing his cold skin. "And if Marcus sees me?"
"Play the part of a wealthy investor's trophy wife who got lost looking for the powder room," Julian said with a grim smile. "You're smart, Clara. You always were."
Ten minutes later, I descended the sweeping grand staircase, the low hum of conversation and classical string music washing over me. I kept my chin high, channeling every ounce of courage I possessed, slipping through the sea of glittering guests without drawing a single suspicious glance.
The east corridor was dark and silent, far away from the music and laughter of the ballroom. I checked my watch: 8:14 PM.
As I rounded the corner toward the server room door, my breath caught. The security guard was still standing right by the biometric scanner, sipping a cup of coffee, showing no signs of moving.
I froze in the shadows, my heart hammering against my ribs, calculating my next move. Suddenly, a sharp crash echoed from the opposite end of the hallway—the sound of breaking glass and a loud, furious shout from Marcus Bennett himself.
"What do you mean, the security feeds are down?!" Marcus's voice boomed down the corridor, ringing with sudden, frantic panic.
The guard spun around, drawing his flashlight and rushing toward the noise, leaving the server room door completely unguarded.
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I didn't hesitate. I dashed forward, jammed the flash drive into the silver console, and watched the terminal screen flare to life with a blinding green light. But before the download progress bar could even tick past one percent, a heavy hand clamped down hard over my mouth, and a cold, whispered voice hissed directly into my ear.
"I knew my brother was hiding something... but I never expected it to be you, Clara."
