The crowd had barely recovered from the spectacle unfolding on the red carpet. Conrad Whitmore stood confidently beneath a storm of camera flashes, arm-in-arm with Marissa Vale, seemingly unconcerned by the questions flying in from every direction. Reporters shouted over one another, eager for a reaction, while guests exchanged glances that mixed curiosity with disbelief. For Conrad, the attention appeared welcome. Every smile, every pose, suggested a man convinced he had complete control of the evening.
At the far end of the entrance, a black town car pulled quietly to the curb. At first, few people noticed. The media remained focused on the controversy already unfolding. But within moments, subtle reactions began rippling through the crowd. Event organizers straightened. Conversations stalled. Even those accustomed to high-profile galas seemed to sense that something unexpected was about to happen.
