Chapter 3 - ARROGANCE IN THE BALLROOM
Inside the opulent gala room, crystal chandeliers reflected off gold-trimmed pillars as classical violin music echoed across the marble floor.
Julian Vance adjusted his black satin bow tie, standing under the framed American flag with a glass of champagne in his hand.
He smirked condescendingly at the whispering crowd, entirely unbothered by the violent scene he had just created.
"She'll come crawling back in ten minutes," Julian sneered to his wealthy associate standing nearby. "Willow knows her little boutique design firm survives on my goodwill."
Several high-society women glared at him with disgust, stepping away from the charcoal grey tuxedo-clad socialite.
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"You went too far this time, Julian," his associate warned nervously, looking toward the glass balcony doors. "Her family name might be quiet, but nobody knows who her father really is."
"Her father is a nobody from Midwest," Julian scoffed arrogance, taking a slow sip of his vintage champagne. "She has no brothers, no protection, and no leverage against Vance Global."
