Chapter 5: The Charity Gala
The ballroom of the St. Regis hotel glittered under ten thousand crystal pendants, a suffocating sea of white-tie formality and hollow laughter. I stood near the edge of the mahogany bar, nursing a scotch I had no intention of drinking, my tailored grey suit feeling less like clothing and more like a suit of armor I was ill-equipped to wear. Across the room, Elena held court near the dais, her white sleeveless dress catching the chandelier light as she laughed musically at something the chairman of the foundation whispered. To anyone passing by, we were the picture of high-society perfection—a powerful couple basking in philanthropy and privilege. But my mind was miles away, anchored entirely to the quiet nursery upstairs and the bruised cheek of a young woman who was the only honest person living beneath my roof. My gold wristwatch ticked steadily, counting down the minutes until I could escape this theater of vanity. Elena caught my eye across the crowded room, giving me a sharp, commanding look that signaled I needed to join her side for the photographs. I forced a polite, empty smile, pressing my jaw tight as I set the glass down on a passing waiter's tray. The duality of my existence was tearing me apart; every second spent playing the loving husband felt like a betrayal of my son. My phone buzzed silently against my thigh, a sharp vibration that cut through the ambient murmur of string quartets and polite applause. I slipped the device out of my pocket, my thumb swiping the screen to check the incoming notification. It was a brief text message from an unknown burner number, timestamped just seconds ago. The message read simply: "She knows you're looking into the servers. Get home before midnight." A cold shiver crawled up the back of my neck. I looked back up toward the dais, but Elena was gone, swallowed up by a cluster of admiring patrons. Without a second thought, I turned my back on the gala, bypassing the reception desk and heading straight for the valet parking exit into the crisp night air.
