Chapter 2 - The Arrival
Preston’s breath hitched in his throat as he watched Eleanor place her phone face down on the table. He knew that look. He had seen that exact, deadly calm in her eyes six years ago when her family bought out his failing hedge fund and rebuilt his entire reputation.
Sloane’s smug smile began to fade as she realized Preston wasn't looking at her, nor was he reaching for her hand. His eyes were wide with a mounting, paralyzing terror as he stared directly toward the grand mahogany entrance doors of the ballroom.
"Preston...?" Sloane whispered, her confidence wavering. "What's wrong with you?"
Before Preston could answer, the heavy double doors of the ballroom swung wide open.
A tall, formidable figure stepped into the hall. It was Mason Hartwell—Eleanor’s older brother and the uncompromising CEO of Hartwell Global Logistics. Dressed in a dark charcoal tuxedo, Mason walked with calculated, predatory grace. Tucked firmly under his left arm was a slim, dark leather portfolio.
Following three steps behind Mason were two men in dark business suits accompanied by an officer from the New York State Department of Financial Services.
The ballroom fell into dead silence. The murmurs of the elite crowd died away as guests parted to let Mason pass.
Preston stood up abruptly from the table, his chair scraping loudly against the polished hardwood floor.
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"No..." Preston breathed under his breath, his face losing all color until he looked like a ghost in his pristine tuxedo.
Mason stopped five feet from the table. Without uttering a single word, he raised the leather portfolio just enough for Preston to read the gold-embossed seal on the cover: HALE FINANCIAL TRUST & FORENSIC AUDIT.
