Chapter 7: The Phoenix of the Hale Group
That evening, the grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was alive with the hum of the city’s elite. It was the annual gala for the Hale Medical Foundation, an event where fortunes were displayed and alliances were solidified.
Daniel arrived alone. His tuxedo was slightly rumpled, his hair lacking its usual perfect styling. He was desperate. He had spent the last seventy-two hours being ignored by Victor Hale’s assistants, and this gala was his last-ditch effort to beg for a meeting.
But as the heavy double doors of the ballroom opened, the chatter of the crowd died down.
Every camera lens in the room pivoted toward the entrance.
A sleek black limousine had just pulled up to the red carpet. Chairman Victor Hale stepped out, but instead of walking in, he turned and offered his arm to the passenger side.
A collective gasp rippled through the venue.
It was Evelyn.
She looked entirely unrecognizable from the quiet, subdued woman Daniel had kept hidden at home. She wore a striking, floor-length emerald silk gown that contrasted beautifully with her pale skin. Her hair was swept up in an elegant, modern twist, exposing her graceful neck and the shoulder that had been injured just days prior.
Her posture was perfect. Her gaze, cool and commanding.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the master of ceremonies announced over the microphone, "please welcome the newly appointed Trustee and Chief Creative Officer of the Hale Foundation—Evelyn Hale."
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Daniel’s hand shook so violently that the champagne glass he was holding nearly slipped from his fingers.
She hadn't just gone back to her family. She had stepped right into the throne.
