Chapter 42
Henry
Rich people loved their masquerades, and this was no different. A fundraiser for clean energy, or clean oceans, or whatever the hell they were pretending to care about this week, while they snorted lines off marble counters in private jets. Hypocrisy had a stench, and it clung to this place like cheap perfume.
I hated everything about being here. The glittering chandeliers. The designer tuxedos. The conversations dripping with false smiles and ulterior motives.
But I was here for a reason, wearing a suit that felt more like a straitjacket and drinking scotch that cost more for a bottle than I once made in an entire year during my military days. I didn’t belong here. I never did. And yet tonight, I planned on playing the part of the billionaire philanthropist to perfection.
The crystal glass felt heavy in my hand as I leaned against the polished mahogany bar, the distant hum of laughter and polite conversation grating on my nerves. Every so often, I noticed a few people glance my way before whispering amongst themselves. They knew who I was. A recluse. Mysterious. Cold.
A genius billionaire who lost everything years ago.
And I was here to get it back.
The room was a showcase of wealth and pretense, a three ring circus.
And the ringmaster was none other than Victor Kane.
He stood in the center of the grand hall, his arm draped around his wife’s slim shoulders, the image of a doting husband and magnanimous benefactor.
A fraud wrapped in designer labels and impeccable grooming.
I raised the glass to my lips, the smoky burn of the scotch doing little to dull the edge of my focus.
Years of combing through digital shadows, chasing whispers and breadcrumbs, and every lead had eventually brought me here.
To Victor.
The man with a sterling reputation and a soul dipped in sin.
His wife, Ariana, wasn’t any better.
On the outside, she was poised and polished, her smile as practiced as his charm. But she was every bit as fake as the man beside her. They played their roles perfectly. The philanthropist and his adoring wife. Two sides of the same rotten coin.
The scotch swirled in my glass as I turned it slowly, my gaze never straying too far from Victor and his wife. But he never noticed me watching. Surveying.
Planning.
Why would he?
To him, I was just another billionaire who hoped to clear his conscience by donating to a good cause. My presence here was carefully orchestrated. An unassuming guest, blending into the background, letting the illusion of disinterest shroud my intent.
He’d built an empire of deceit, hiding his true self behind charity galas and glossy magazine profiles. But the cracks in his foundation were there, and I was going to rip them wide open. Piece by piece, I’d tear apart the house of cards he’d spent decades constructing. He just didn’t know it yet.
Ariana’s sequined dress caught the light as Victor placed a hand on her back, guiding her toward another group of sycophants. She moved with the grace of someone who thrived in the shadows of power, her every gesture calculated to support his image.
But she wasn’t just a pawn. A piece of eye-candy. A woman without ambition.
She was his queen.
And if I learned anything from years of playing chess, the easiest path to a checkmate was by capturing the queen.
And that was precisely what I planned to do.
Thank you so much for reading Final Vendetta ! I hope you enjoyed the final chapter of Gideon and Imogene’s story!