Chapter 7 - THE GALA CONFRONTATION
Two weeks later, the annual Chicago Hospitality Charity Gala was held. Historically, it was the Halstons' playground—a place for them to flaunt their wealth and influence. This year, they attended purely out of desperation, hoping to secure private loans from old friends.
Evelyn attended as the representative of the new Halston-Wolfe enterprise. She wore a floor-length gown of deep, rich burgundy—a deliberate, unapologetic nod to the wine stain that had started it all. The silk clung to her curves, and a simple diamond pendant rested at her collarbone, a gift from Adrian to celebrate the successful acquisition.
When she entered the ballroom on Adrian’s arm, the entire room fell silent. Flashbulbs erupted. The power dynamic of the city had shifted overnight, and everyone wanted to see the architects of the new era.
Charles and Vivienne attempted to intercept them near the champagne tower.
“Adrian, Evelyn,” Charles said, forcing a sickly smile. “We need to discuss the non-compete clauses. They are far too restrictive.”
Adrian didn’t even break his stride. “You have no leverage, Charles. Enjoy the champagne. I hear you're paying for it out of pocket tonight.”
Vivienne glared at Evelyn, her eyes filled with venom. “You think a fancy dress makes you one of us? You’re still just a clerk wearing borrowed armor.”
Evelyn stopped. She released Adrian’s arm and stepped directly into Vivienne’s personal space.
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“I don’t want to be one of you,” Evelyn said, her voice cold and sharp as cracked ice. “You build your worth by stepping on the people beneath you. I built mine by pulling them up. As of yesterday, I raised the minimum wage for every housekeeper and server in your former hotels by thirty percent. I paid for it by liquidating your private jet.”
Vivienne gasped, clutching her pearls in genuine horror. Evelyn smiled—a true, beautiful, triumphant smile—and walked away, leaving the former queen of Chicago hospitality speechless.
