“They are indeed,” Vance said, checking his silver pocket watch.

“In fact, they are the guest of honor.”

Vivian stood up, her eyes scanning the crowd of wealthy guests.

She looked at the shipping magnates, the tech investors, and the foreign dignitaries.

None of them paid any attention to her.

She looked past them, her eyes briefly passing over my shaded booth.

She did not recognize me in the dim light, or perhaps she simply refused to look at a “nobody.”

“Daniel,” Vivian hissed. “Find out who the primary investor is.”

“Ask the manager.”

“Ask anyone.”

Daniel stood up, his face pale as paper.

“Mother, how am I supposed to ask?” he muttered. “They won’t tell me.”

“Go!” Vivian snarled under her breath.

Before Daniel could move, the house lights in the grand ballroom began to dim.

The chatter in the room slowly died down.

A spotlight focused on the center stage, where a grand wooden podium stood.

Mr. Han walked up the steps of the stage, his suit immaculate.

He adjusted the microphone, the sound echoing softly through the high-ceilinged room.