KELVIN’S POV
The gala begins at seven, by six-thirty, the ballroom is already full.
Crystal chandeliers hang from vaulted ceilings. Waiters move through the crowd carrying champagne. A live orchestra plays softly from the stage while cameras flash near the entrance every few seconds.
I stand near the center of the room exchanging greetings, shaking hands, discussing investments and charitable initiatives with people whose names dominate headlines and boardrooms across the city.
Nobody would know I haven’t slept properly in days or know my attention keeps drifting toward the entrance while I’m waiting for one person.
“Kelvin.” I turn slowly.
Another investor pulls me into conversation, another smile appears, another handshake follows, and I slip back into the familiar routine that usu
