The ballroom of the Grand Hotel was being transformed into a winter wonderland for the Solstice Gala. Icicle chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and white roses covered every surface.
Arthur Sterling stood in the center of the room, inspecting the layout.
“I want the confrontation to happen here,” Arthur said, pointing to a secluded alcove near the orchestra pit. “I will corner William after the toast. I’ll present the resignation papers. He will sign them to save his father’s reputation, and the DJ will play a waltz while I take ownership of his company.”
Cynthia Sharpe stood beside him, checking the guest list on her tablet. She wore a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Her focus wasn’t on the business deal; it was on the humiliation.
“And while you handle the CEO,” Cynthia purred, “I have a surprise for the wife. I’ve arranged for a ‘fan’ to accidentally spill a tray of drinks on her just before the press photos. And then… the video.”
“The video?” Arthur asked, bored.
“A deep-fake compilation,” Cynthia lied smoothly, though her plan was actually to drug William’s drink to stage a compromising photo later in the evening. “Let’s just say Ms. Vance will wish she had stayed a stripper. It’s hard to play the dignified matriarch when you’re a laughingstock.”
Arthur checked his watch. “Make sure it’s brutal, Cynthia. I want them broken.”