Chapter 3 - The Cameras
"Julian, please," Grant begged, the facade of the successful CEO completely shattering. He reached a hand out toward Julian, desperate to save his reputation in front of the five hundred donors watching him drown. "This is a private domestic issue. Celeste overreacted. I didn't know she took the earrings. Just let us leave quietly."
Julian didn't look at Grant. He looked up at the AV booth perched on the balcony level. He gave a single, almost imperceptible nod.
Suddenly, the massive projection screens that flanked the ballroom stage flickered to life.
They had been set up to display the charity auction items. Instead, they displayed the high-definition security and press feeds from the ballroom floor. The screens played the last sixty seconds in perfectly clear, inescapable high definition.
Five hundred people watched Celeste Ray raise her hand and slap me. They watched Grant step back and do absolutely nothing to protect his wife.
"The Veil Foundation does not tolerate violence," Julian decreed, his voice a vibrating rumble of destruction. "Assaulting the chairwoman is a criminal offense. Wearing stolen property is a felony."
"No!" Celeste shrieked, backing away as four massive security guards in black suits stepped seamlessly out of the crowd, boxing her and Grant in. "Grant, do something! Tell them it's a mistake!"
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But Grant wasn't looking at her. He was looking at me, his eyes wide with the horrifying realization that his entire life was over.
"Elena, please," Grant wept, entirely ignoring his mistress. "The Veil contract is the only thing keeping Mercer Urban out of bankruptcy. If you pull the funding, the banks will seize everything. I'll lose the company. I'll lose the house."
