The atmosphere was tense and the air was thick with unease. Davis, on his wheelchair sat still, fists clenching and unclenching in rhythmic tension as the murmurs around the gala grew louder.
Every passing second heightened the pressure. Time was slipping, and he had to fix this mess before it spiraled further.
The online scandal had cast a long, dark shadow over what was meant to be a triumphant night.
With none of his team present and no solid evidence to refute the damaging narrative spreading online, there was no clear way to contain the growing unease at the gala.
A temporary solution had to be enacted fast and damage control was all he could think of now.
He exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers against his temples. The throbbing there mirrored the urgency pulsing through his mind.
"Call the manager over," he said coldly, the authority in his voice slicing through the panic. "He’s got a role to play if we’re going to buy some time."
In the past, Davis would have chosen silence, would have retreated into the shadows, wallowing in self-pity, letting fate roll over him and letting the world move on without him.
But tonight was different. He thought of her—of all she’d sacrificed to make this evening a reality.
He couldn’t afford to falter now. Not when someone was hell bent on ruining everything she’d built.
He could no longer afford to stay on the sidelines and let that effort go to waste.
He would’ve preferred to rise on his own two feet and step into the fire and reclaim control right here and now but her warning echoed in his mind: Lie low. Don’t alert the enemy. To her, caution was strength. She’d always favored strategy over showdowns.
He glanced toward Ethan,a glint of resolve in his eyes . "Get me a mask. If investors are backing out, then I’ll be the one investor bold enough to make them rethink, to pull them back in "
Alex gawked. "A mask? What exactly are you planning to do?"
Before Davis could answer, Ethan stepped forward and handed him the item. A sleek, half-face mask—simple, yet regal.
Davis took the mask Ethan had already pulled out without hesitation. While he carefully and lazily slid it on, his lips curled up slightly "Saving my wife’s vision," he replied.
Alex blinked. "Wait—you already had a mask? Why? Who brings a mask to a corporate launch?" This isn’t a masquerade gala."
Davis chuckled faintly. "Call it foresight. Someone planned ahead." Davis smiled as he adjusted the mask.
It framed his sharp features perfectly, leaving part of his face visible which added an edge of mystery and power.
Behind the mask, he exuded the cold, commanding aura of a CEO—one that intrigued and intimidated. He no longer looked like the Davis Allen they once knew.
Alex, Matt, and Luca—still busy with calls—paused as the full weight of what Davis was doing dawned on them. They had known him to play the long game.
But even they hadn’t expected this kind of comeback. Of course. This was Davis. He never showed all his cards at once.
The manager, Mr. Stan, arrived shortly after, breathless and visibly rattled. Sweat glistened on his forehead; his hands trembled at his sides.
The once-friendly, mild-mannered Davis he’d coordinated with for the last week was nowhere in sight. What stood before him now was something colder, domineering and sharper.


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