Chapter 5: The Gala Gambit

Everything went smoothly. For once, the universe didn’t throw a last-minute curveball my way. I kept my head down, moved quietly, and made sure no one suspected a thing.

I even carefully chose a mermaid dress. It was deep navy, with just enough shimmer to catch the light. When I bought this dress, the boutique owner swore it was one-of-a-kind. Guess money talks louder than promises.

Wearing high heels, I entered the banquet hall with a smile. The marble foyer was lit by a chandelier the size of my old apartment. Waiters glided by with trays of champagne, and the air buzzed with money and ambition.

The air smelled like expensive perfume and anxiety. Ice clinked in glasses, and the low hum of gossip buzzed beneath the string quartet.

My friends came up to greet me. One nudged me with her elbow. “No date? I can lend you my brother.” Her grin was wicked. I pretended to consider it, then shook my head.

I thought for a moment. “Forget it. I don’t think being alone is embarrassing.” The words tasted good on my tongue—true, for once. I straightened my shoulders and smiled back.

“True! A guy would just get in the way of our girl talk!” she laughed. Her laughter was infectious, and for a second, I almost believed I could enjoy the night.

Suddenly, a commotion broke out nearby. The room shifted. Glasses stilled, whispers rose. Something was happening.

We looked over—Brandon, in a silver-gray suit, looked lazy and elegant, a faint smile on his lips. Maddie clung sweetly to his arm. He looked like he’d stepped out of a GQ spread. Maddie, beside him, wore a matching air of practiced sweetness.

Ah… I’d thought when Brandon said he’d accompany Maddie, he meant shopping or something. Turns out he was bringing her to the gala. The realization hit me like a punch. He wanted this to be public, wanted everyone to see.

My gaze fell on Maddie’s dress. She looked radiant, but something about her smile felt rehearsed. The exact same mermaid dress as mine. The room buzzed with whispers. I stood frozen, refusing to let them see me sweat.

When I ordered it, I was told there was only one in the country. I remembered the boutique owner’s proud assurance—custom, exclusive, untouchable. Was hers shipped overnight from abroad? Either Brandon pulled strings, or Maddie had a very resourceful stylist. I felt sick.

Brandon was clearly trying to embarrass me. It was the kind of petty power play only the very rich had the time and money for.

Sure enough, as soon as Maddie saw me, her expression changed. She bit her lip and whispered something to Brandon, who looked over slowly. He met my eyes, his stare heavy with meaning. I refused to look away.

Maddie tottered over in her heels, glaring at me with almond-shaped eyes. “Did you seriously copy my dress? Wow, desperate much?” Her voice was pitched loud enough for the nearest tables to hear. Instantly, heads swiveled in our direction.

Hearing this, the other guests started to gather. I saw phones rise, screens lit up. It was only a matter of minutes before this hit Instagram.

My friend was shocked. “Don’t talk nonsense...” She stepped closer to my side, arms crossed, ready to defend me.

Maddie snorted. “You’re just jealous of how well Brandon treats me. Your tricks are pathetic, and you don’t even look as good as I do in it.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, giving me a withering once-over.

My friend muttered, “She looks better than you.” Her voice was low but cutting. I flashed her a grateful look.

Maddie, furious, stomped back to Brandon and shook his arm. “Brandon, look at them!” Her lower lip trembled, but I could see the satisfaction in her eyes.

Brandon’s eyes were dark, lingering on me for a long time. After a while, he smiled faintly. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. I wondered if he’d finally realized how ugly this all looked from the outside.

The comments suddenly erupted:

*Ahhh, the CEO’s son smiled! He thinks she looks better!*

*Right? His eyes never lie. CEO’s son and Rachel forever—I’ll bet a bag of chips!*

*But wait... the CEO’s son is provoking her so she’ll run to him, all soft and pitiful, and then...*

Even here, their voices wormed into my head. I shook them off, focusing on the task at hand.

I was still thinking about that last comment when the microphone suddenly sounded. A hush fell instantly. The music died, all eyes turning to the stage. Everyone turned to look.

My heart hammered, sensing a setup. I kept my head high. The Foster Corp’s senior secretary took the mic and a card: “Thank you all for attending this gala. I have an important announcement—by decision of Mr. Foster and the board, 2% of Foster Corp’s shares will be gifted to Miss Maddie.”

A gasp went up, the kind that only comes when true money is being thrown around. Someone’s glass shattered. All I could do was stand there, numb. The entire room erupted in shock! The whispers turned into a full-on buzz. This was no ordinary PR stunt. This was war.

I looked up, stunned, unable to believe it. The chandelier above seemed to flicker. My vision blurred, the edges of the room closing in.

Brandon held a significant amount of shares, though I didn’t know the exact number. But an extra 2% was reserved for his future wife... Even if it’s only 2%, in a massive company like Foster’s, the annual income is staggering. I did the math in my head. It was a fortune, even for the Fosters.

He gave it to Maddie. He’d made his choice, loud and clear. And announced it here and now. In front of everyone—family, friends, business partners. No way to walk it back.

The comments went wild:

*Here it is—the CEO’s son’s crazy move! Poor girl will be mocked by everyone and have to beg him!*

*Yeah, then she’ll have no choice but to stay by his side, endlessly doted on... so sweet!*

*What is she still holding out for? He loves her so much! Hurry up and slap Maddie, then cling to the CEO’s son and act cute!*

I felt the stares, the whispers, the judgment. I straightened my spine, refusing to be cowed.

Facing all the mocking, gloating eyes, I walked step by step toward Brandon. Each stride was deliberate, the click of my heels echoing like a war drum. I wouldn’t let them see me falter. His gaze followed me intently.

I held his eyes, refusing to look away, even as my hands trembled at my sides. I walked up to him. The crowd parted, watching us like we were the main event. I felt the weight of a hundred expectations pressing in.

He lowered his eyes, the corner of his mouth curling in a slight smile. It was the smile of someone who thought they’d won. But I had one last move.

I smiled too, each word ringing out clearly:

“The breakup agreement is already on its way. You’ll receive it soon. As for whether to keep working with my family’s company—that’s up to you.”

My voice didn’t shake. For the first time in forever, I felt free. The ballroom, the stares, the comments—they all faded away. This was my story now, not theirs.

Brandon’s face drained of color. For the first time, the room seemed to realize: the game had changed.