Chapter 1
Julian smoothed the lapel of his dark navy tuxedo, adjusting the crisp white shirt that felt uncomfortably tight around his collar. The crystal chandelier overhead cast a blinding glare across the polished ballroom floor, where society elites murmured softly over champagne glasses. Beside him, Clara looked radiant in her beige sleeveless evening gown, the beaded detailing catching the amber light with every subtle breath she took. Yet Julian could not steady his pulse. He scanned the sea of unfamiliar faces, his eyes darting past the catering staff and floral arrangements, searching for the one figure that mattered. He turned to Clara, his hands trembling slightly as he forced his breathing to slow. "Where's my father?" he asked, his voice tight with an anxiety he could barely contain. Clara offered a reassuring smile, touching his arm with a manicured hand. "He's probably resting. Don't worry," she whispered, her tone measured and calm. But the ease in her voice only fueled the knot in Julian’s stomach. He knew Arthur Sterling didn't rest at parties like this. He didn't belong here among the hedge-fund managers and political donors, and Clara knew it better than anyone. Julian ignored the low hum of conversation around them, his eyes fixing on the heavy white double doors at the far end of the ballroom. Without another word, he strode past a group of startled guests, his leather shoes clicking sharply against the hardwood floor. He pushed open the double doors, leaving the bright music and laughter behind as he stepped into the cold, sterile quiet of the industrial kitchen.
