Chapter 3: The Unraveling
The gala descended into chaos. Security guards moved in, but they weren't protecting the Whitmores; they were cordoning off the area around Nora. Silas signaled his men, and within minutes, the front doors were locked. No one was leaving.
"Check the security footage," Silas commanded. "Every camera in this room. If anyone who participated in this mockery leaves this building, it is my fault."
Nora looked around, bewildered. She had spent her life trying to be invisible, trying to avoid trouble, and now the most feared man in the city was holding the spotlight for her. She saw Whitney’s father, Richard Whitmore, rushing over, his face purple with anxiety. "Mr. Veyne, surely this is a misunderstanding? A waitress, a girl who lied about her status—"
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"A girl?" Silas turned, his hand resting on the small of Nora’s back, a gesture of absolute protection. "She is a saint who gave of her own meager resources to save a life. You are a man who measures his worth in liquid assets. You are not in the same room, Richard. You are not even in the same species."
Silas pulled out his phone. "Accountants, freeze the Whitmore assets. Pull every contract. If they are involved in it, we are withdrawing immediately. And get the press on the line. I want the world to see what happened in this ballroom tonight."
