Chapter 5 - The Gala of Retribution

Three days later, the annual New York Tech Founders Gala was held at the Plaza Hotel.
It was the most exclusive event of the year, attended by tech titans, foreign investors, and political leaders.
Aaron, desperate to salvage his reputation and raise capital to save his crumbling life, used his last remaining personal connections to secure an invitation. He arrived dressed in a tuxedo, accompanied by his mother, Eleanor. Jasmine was nowhere to be seen—she had fled back to her hometown the moment the federal tax authorities froze her Cayman account.
Aaron’s face was drawn, his eyes bloodshot. Over the past seventy-two hours, his life had fallen completely apart. Prescott Tech stock had been suspended from trading, his bank accounts were under audit, and his country-club friends were ignoring his text messages.
"Don't worry, Aaron," Eleanor whispered, clutching his arm tightly. "Once you speak to Senator Davis tonight, he’ll pressure the regulatory boards. You’re Aaron Prescott! You’re a visionary!"
"I just need to find investors," Aaron muttered nervously, taking a champagne glass from a waiter. "If I can raise $500 million tonight, I can buy alternative patent licenses and start over."
Suddenly, the chatter in the grand ballroom died down.
The heavy mahogany doors at the main entrance swung open.
A woman stepped into the ballroom. She wore an emerald green silk gown that draped flawlessly to the floor, complimented by a rare 50-carat diamond necklace from the Vance family vault. Her hair was styled in an elegant updo, and her demeanor exuded absolute, effortless authority.
It was me.
Beside me walked the CEO of the world’s largest tech investment firm and the Mayor of New York.
"Is that... Alyssa?" Aaron gasped, dropping his champagne glass onto the carpet.
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He had never seen me like this. For four years, I had dressed in modest sweater sets, attended his boring corporate dinners, stayed in the background, and let him shine.
Now, standing in the center of the room, surrounded by global powerbrokers who bowed as she approached, she looked like royalty. Because she was.