THE TRILLIONAIRE'S WRATH: RISE OF THE FALLEN SON-IN-LAW

CHAPTER 006: The Masked Investor

The grand ballroom of the Pierre Hotel was filled with the smell of expensive lilies and desperation. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a sharp light on the faces of New York’s elite. Usually, this crowd was loud and arrogant. Tonight, they spoke in whispers.

The Hastings family was at the center of the room, but they didn't look like kings anymore. Henry McHampton stood near the bar, his face pale, his hand shaking as he gripped a glass of gin. Bernadette was beside him, her smile fixed and brittle, like glass about to shatter.

"He has to show up, Henry," Bernadette whispered, her eyes darting to the entrance. "The Mystery Chairman from Rad & Co. is our only hope. If he doesn't buy our debt tonight, we’re finished. The banks will take the house by Monday."

"I know that!" Henry snapped, his voice tight. "Just make sure you look the part. If he likes what he sees, maybe he won't look too closely at our balance sheets."

The massive double doors swung open. The room went silent.

Thiago Henderson walked in. He didn't look like the man they had kicked into the dirt. He wore a midnight-blue suit that cost more than a mid-sized house. On his face was a custom silver mask, shaped like a hunting hawk, covering everything from his forehead to his cheekbones. His silver eyes burned through the eye slits, cold and predatory.

He didn't walk; he commanded the space. Stephen walked two steps behind him, looking like a grim shadow.

"Is that him?" someone whispered.

"The Ghost Chairman," another replied. "They say he bought three tech firms before breakfast just to shut them down."

Thiago watched the crowd. Look at them, he thought. They’re like vultures waiting for a carcass, not realizing they’re the ones being hunted.

He saw Bernadette peel away from Henry. She smoothed her red silk dress and adjusted her hair. She walked toward him with the practiced grace of a woman who knew exactly how much her beauty was worth.

"Welcome, sir," Bernadette said, her voice dropping into a sultry, melodic tone. She stood just close enough for him to smell her perfume. "I’m Bernadette Hastings. My family is hosting this evening. We’ve heard so much about your... aggressive style."

Thiago looked at her. Up close, he could see the tiny lines of stress around her eyes. He felt a dark sense of satisfaction. Five years ago, I would have died for this woman. Now, I just want to see how far she’ll sink.

"Your family is in a lot of trouble, Miss Hastings," Thiago said. He had lowered his voice, making it a deep, gravelly hum that she wouldn't recognize. "I don't usually invest in sinking ships."

Bernadette reached out, her fingers grazing the sleeve of his jacket. "A ship only sinks if it doesn't have the right captain. With your capital and my... connections, we could rule this city. I’m willing to do anything to ensure a partnership. Anything at all."

Thiago tilted his head. "Anything? You’re a married woman, aren't you? I saw a man over by the bar who looks quite possessive."

Bernadette let out a sharp, mocking laugh. She didn't even look back at Henry. "Henry? He’s a business partner. A temporary one. If you're worried about my past, don't be. My first husband was the real mistake. A loser. A convict who tried to drag me down to the gutter with him. I only married that trash for his father's old connections. He’s nothing compared to a man like you."

Thiago felt a cold fire ignite in his chest. Trash. A loser. The words she used to describe the man who had loved her, the man who had gone to prison to protect her father’s name.

"You sound like a woman who knows how to trade up," Thiago said, his voice flat.

"I’m a realist," she replied, leaning in until her lips were inches from his ear. "Invest in us, and I’ll make sure you’re rewarded in ways a bank can’t offer. Name your price."

Thiago looked past her. In the corner of the room, standing by the service entrance, he saw a girl in a maid’s uniform. It was Tamia. She looked tired, her eyes downcast, holding a tray of empty glasses. She looked like a ghost in her own life.

"I have a price," Thiago said.

Bernadette’s eyes lit up. "Tell me. Money? Shares? A seat on the board?"

Thiago leaned in, his silver mask brushing against her hair. His voice was a cold whisper that made her shiver, though she didn't know why.

"I’ll save your company," Thiago said. "I’ll pay every debt and double your stock price by morning. But I don't want your shares. And I don't want you."

Bernadette blinked, confused. "Then what?"

"I want your maid," Thiago said, pointing a gloved finger toward the girl by the door. "The girl, Tamia. Hand her over to my staff tonight. Transfer her employment contract to me, and you’ll find the funds in your account before the sun rises. If she isn't in my car in ten minutes, I walk, and your family ends tonight."

Bernadette looked at Tamia, then back at the masked man. She didn't hesitate. She didn't even wonder why a trillionaire wanted a broken maid.

"Her?" Bernadette laughed, relieved. "She’s just a servant. A slow-witted girl we kept out of charity. If that’s all it takes to close the deal, you can have her. I’ll go tell her to pack her rags right now."

Bernadette turned and hurried toward Tamia, a look of triumph on her face.

Thiago watched her go. You just sold my sister for a check, Bernadette, he thought, his jaw tightening behind the mask. You think you won. But you just gave me the only thing in this house worth saving. Now, the real destruction begins.

He turned to Stephen, who was waiting in the shadows. "Is the car ready?"

"Yes, Chairman. And the medical team is on standby at the estate."

"Good," Thiago said, walking toward the exit. "Tell them to be gentle. She thinks she’s going to a monster. She has no idea she’s finally going home."