Chapter 14 - The Snake in High Society
Armed with the account details Kenneth provided, Vincent worked through the night to prepare an injunction against Julian Sterling.
However, before we could legally petition a federal judge for access to the bank vault, an engraved silver invitation arrived at my executive suite at Rollins Global.
It was an invitation to the Denver Symphony Orchestra’s annual philanthropic gala—an event our family had sponsored for decades. But the guest list enclosed with the invitation carried a handwritten postscript in bold black ink:
Looking forward to catching up with old friends. — Arthur Vance.
"You can't go to that gala, Sabrina," Justin pleaded, pacing back and forth in my corner office. "It’s a trap. He’s deliberately baiting you into a public confrontation."
"If I don't go, the entire business community will think Rollins Global is running scared," I answered firmly, adjusting the collar of my emerald-green silk gown. "Arthur wants to use tonight to re-establish his social legitimacy and signal to our investors that he is back in play. If I hide, our stock will drop another ten percent by morning."
"I’m coming with you," Justin said, adjusting his black bowtie. "And Vincent will have four armed security guards discreetly positioned throughout the ballroom."
The grand ballroom of the Brown Palace Hotel was breathtaking, dripping in crystal chandeliers and filled with hundreds of Denver's corporate elite, politicians, and socialites.
As soon as Justin and I walked down the grand marble staircase, the chatter in the room quieted noticeably. Eyes turned toward us, whispers rippling through the crowd. Everyone knew about the recent corporate scandal, the arrests of Kenneth and Marcus, and the mysterious rumors of Arthur Vance’s sudden parole.
I kept my head held high, a warm, unbothered smile on my face as I greeted city council members and major partners.
Then, the double doors at the main entrance swung open.
Arthur Vance stepped inside.
He was nearly seventy years old, but he carried himself with the predatory grace of a wolf. His silver hair was slicked back neatly, his tuxedo was bespoke Italian wool, and his ice-blue eyes cut through the room with razor-sharp confidence. A wealthy, prominent city commissioner walked beside him, laughing warmly at one of Arthur’s jokes.
Arthur glanced around the ballroom until his gaze locked onto mine. A slow, terrifying smirk formed on his lips.
He picked up two flutes of vintage champagne from a passing waiter and began walking slowly across the parquet floor, heading straight for where I stood.
The guests parted around him like the sea, sensing the lethal tension radiating through the air.
"Sabrina Rollins," Arthur said smoothly, stopping two feet away from me and offering me a glass. "You look radiant. You have your late father's stubborn eyes."
I ignored the glass in his hand, keeping my arms relaxed at my sides. "I don't drink with convicted felons, Arthur. And you are trespassing on our family’s sponsored event."
May you like
Arthur chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip from his flute. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into a menacing whisper that only Justin and I could hear.
"Your father took fifteen years of my freedom, Sabrina. He thought he buried me. But stone walls only gave me time to plan." He stared into my eyes, cold malice dripping from every syllable. "I am going to take your company, your fortune, and the lives of everyone who shares your blood. Enjoy tonight, little girl. You have exactly fourteen days before the auction of your life begins."
