Chapter 3: The Gala of Glass Houses
The annual Blackwood Foundation Charity Gala was the most prestigious event of the social season in Manhattan. It was the stage Vanessa had chosen to announce her "new era." The ballroom was filled with the elite: senators, CEOs, and the paparazzi.
Vanessa arrived in custom couture, radiating the confidence of an empress. She stood on the dais, microphone in hand, ready to announce the complete takeover of the Blackwood empire.
"My mother has served us well," Vanessa announced to the room, her voice dripping with artificial sympathy. "But it is time for a younger, more visionary hand to guide the company. As of this morning, all assets are under my sole control."
Applause rippled through the room—polite, shallow applause.
Then, the massive screens behind the stage, which were supposed to display a montage of the charity’s success, flickered. The music cut out.
The screen went black for a second. Then, a video began to play. It was a high-definition, crystal-clear recording of the kitchen scene.
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"I don't care about the scholarship, Mother. I care about the private jet… the life I deserve."
The room went deathly silent.
