Chapter 11 - THE GALA OF THE CENTURY
Six months later,
the grand ballroom of the Palmer House Hilton glittered with blinding crystal chandeliers.
Tonight was the annual Chicago Philanthropic Gala,
the most exclusive social event of the year.
The red carpet was lined with international photographers,
television crews,
and roaring society crowds.
Every high-society elite,
billionaire investor,
and political leader in the Midwest was in attendance.
But the absolute center of attention was the woman making her grand entrance through the tall oak doors.
I walked down the sweeping marble staircase on the arm of Julian Sterling.
I wore a breathtaking custom Elie Saab couture gown encrusted with thousands of hand-stitched crystals.
My hair was styled in sleek Hollywood waves,
and a diamond necklace sparkled brilliantly against my collarbone.
The flashbulbs popped so intensely that the room felt like it was trapped in a continuous lightning storm.
Whispers rippled through the crowd as society gossips recognized the once-forgotten ex-wife of Grant Whitmore.
I wasn't just a guest tonight; I was the keynote benefactor and the newly appointed chairperson of the foundation.
Julian looked down at me with genuine adoration,
kissing my hand before leading me toward the dais.
Across the ballroom,
standing near the service entrance in a cheap,
off-the-rack suit,
was Grant.
He looked emaciated,
his face unshaven and his eyes hollowed out by months of absolute desperation.
He had sneaked into the gala using a forged ticket,
hoping to catch a glimpse of the life he threw away.
Our eyes locked across the crowded room for one lingering,
unforgettable moment.
I didn't look away with pity or anger; I looked at him with absolute,
profound indifference.
I raised my champagne glass in a silent toast to his total and complete destruction.
Grant stumbled backward,
colliding with a passing waiter and sending champagne flutes crashing to the floor.
Security guards immediately converged on him,
grabbing him by the shoulders and dragging him out into the cold alley.
He screamed my name into the night air,
May you like
but his voice was swallowed entirely by the glittering music.
==================================================
