Chapter 9 - The Shadow Investor
The annual Robertson Gala was the event of the season, a glittering gathering of the city’s most influential politicians, billionaires, and celebrities. It was the perfect stage for Hailey to cement her status as the true heir to the Robertson dynasty.
Wearing a stunning, custom-tailored sapphire gown that sparkled under the crystal chandeliers of the Grand Ballroom, Hailey stood beside her father, greeting guests. Yet, her eyes constantly scanned the crowd. The security around the ballroom had been tripled, but the threat from Priscilla's phone call weighed heavily on her mind.
"Relax, sweetheart," Finnley whispered, patting her hand. "You've earned this night. Don't let the ghosts of your past ruin it."
"I try, Dad," Hailey said softly. "But the Thornes are desperate. Desperate people do desperate things."
Suddenly, a commotion near the entrance of the ballroom drew everyone's attention. The crowd parted, whispering furiously.
Walking into the grand hall, dressed in couture gowns that screamed new wealth, were Gillian and Priscilla. They walked with an obnoxious, unearned confidence, sipping champagne from trays as if they owned the venue. But they weren't alone. Walking between them, acting as their escort, was a tall, strikingly handsome man in his late thirties with sharp, predatory eyes and a smug smile.
Hailey’s breath hitched. She recognized him instantly.
"Julian Vance," Finnley hissed, his grip tightening on his wine glass until his knuckles turned white.
Julian Vance was the CEO of Vance Global, the Robertson Group's fiercest and most ruthless competitor. For decades, the Vances and the Robertsons had waged a silent, brutal war for dominance over the city's real estate and tech sectors.
"Finnley! Hailey!" Julian smiled warmly, though his eyes remained ice-cold as he walked up to them. "What a magnificent party. I took the liberty of bringing a few guests. I believe you already know Gillian and Priscilla?"
"This is a private, invitation-only event, Julian," Hailey said, stepping forward, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Your name is not on the list, and neither are theirs. Security, escort them out."
"Ah, but that’s where you're wrong, Hailey," Priscilla smirked, stepping forward and flashing a gold-embossed VIP pass. "Julian bought out the charity foundation hosting tonight's auction. Technically, he owns the event. Which means we stay."
Gillian took a slow sip of her champagne, looking Hailey up and down with sneering contempt. "Look at you, playing the grand lady. You lied to us, Hailey. You pretended to be a poor orphan while our family took you in, and then you stole my son's company and threw him in a cage."
"Your son threw himself in a cage because he is a thief and a fraud," Hailey replied, her voice steady and loud enough for the surrounding guests to hear. "And if you don't leave this property immediately, I will have the police arrest you both for trespassing and harassment."
Julian Vance stepped between them, his smile widening. "Now, now, let's not make a scene in front of the press, Hailey. I must admit, I was highly impressed by the AI code Vanguard Tech developed. It's a shame Jasper was too foolish to utilize it properly. But with Vance Global's funding and Gillian's... proprietary access to Jasper's original databases, we've managed to rebuild the software. We're launching our new platform next week."
Hailey felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. Jasper’s code was highly advanced, but it required proprietary master keys that only Jasper—or someone with access to his personal hard drives—possessed.
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"You stole our intellectual property," Hailey said, her eyes narrowing.
"Prove it in court," Julian whispered, leaning in close. "By the time your lawyers even file the paperwork, Vance Global will have absorbed your market share. The Robertson dynasty is looking a little fragile, Hailey. Let's see if you have what it takes to survive a real war."
