I dialed K and gave the final set of instructions.
Everything was in place. All I needed now was the right moment.
The Grand Hyatt's ballroom glittered under a cascade of crystal chandeliers.
Maxwell had booked the entire top floor. The venue was dripping in extravagance—towering floral arrangements, champagne towers, the works.
I stepped through the entrance in a fitted wine-red couture gown, my hair swept up, my heels clicking against the marble. Every pair of eyes in the room snapped toward me.
Whispers rippled through the crowd like wind through dry grass.
"That's Mrs. Gilbert. I heard her husband's giving half his fortune to his ex-girlfriend's sister tonight."
"And he's pressuring her to donate bone marrow too. Can you imagine?"
"Right? But she looks like she can hold her own. How does a woman like that end up a doormat at home?"
I ignored every prying glance, every pitying smirk, and walked straight to the head table.
Maxwell stood there in an impeccably tailored suit, all smiles, shaking hands and trading pleasantries with his guests like a man on top of the world.
Antonia sat in a custom wheelchair, draped in a white chiffon dress, styled to look like some fragile angel plucked from a painting. If you overlooked the carefully applied pallor on her face, she really did look heartbreakingly delicate.
The moment Maxwell saw me approaching, a sharp warning flashed through his eyes.
"Good. You know what's good for you. When it's time to go on stage, play along. Don't embarrass me."
I gave him one cold, withering look and said nothing.
Antonia tugged timidly at the hem of my dress.
"Amy, thank you so much for coming. I'll find a way to repay you someday, I promise."
I pulled my dress free, not bothering to hide my disgust.
"Save your repayment. You'll need it where you're going."
The color drained from Antonia's face, and her eyes turned red in an instant.
Maxwell saw it and immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her like she was made of glass.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Amy? This is an important event. Are you seriously going to cause a scene?"
"I'm not causing a scene. I'm stating facts."
I picked up a glass of champagne, swirling it lazily, and fixed him with a gaze cold enough to freeze steel.
"Maxwell, I'll ask you one last time. Are you sure you want to transfer those shares to her?"