THE UNSEEN HEIR

The Banquet II.

Lorenzo’s brow furrowed into sharp knots. He stepped between the guard and Roxana, his demeanor radiating an unspoken, cold pressure. "You haven't even checked Chloe Hawthorne's identity or credentials. Why are you selectively demanding only her invitation?"

Chloe sneered, stepping up to the guard link. "Because I am a regular at this elite banquet hall, you idiot. How could an accomplished heiress like me ever be compared to poor, desperate people like you? But fine, since your poverty makes you curious, I’ll be gracious and show you what real status looks like."

With a theatrical flourish, Chloe reached into her designer clutch and pulled out a glittering, gold-embossed card, handing it over. The guard took it, gave it a brief, respectful glance, and nodded. "It is genuine, Ms. Hawthorne. Welcome."

The guard then turned back to Roxana, his tone dropping all courtesy. "Now, produce yours. Immediately."

"You've been awfully quiet this whole time, Roxana," Chloe taunted, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "You must be feeling incredibly guilty and embarrassed because you literally cannot produce an invitation, right?"

"She doesn't need to look for one," Lorenzo stated firmly.

He reached into the pocket of his simple trousers, bypassed the standard gold cards, and pulled out a silver-gray invitation. It had no flashy logos—only a deeply engraved, minimalist crest of the Lancaster Empire. He slipped it into the guard's hand.

The guard took the silver-gray card, turning it over. He stared at it for barely two seconds, his face hardening into an expression of utter disbelief and annoyance.

"Sir, this invitation of yours is completely invalid," the guard barked, tossing it back toward Lorenzo’s chest.

Chloe and Justin burst into an absolute fit of roaring laughter, clapping their hands in delight. "A fake! He actually brought a forged invitation! Oh my God, Lorenzo, this is pathetic even for you!"

Roxana’s heart dropped into her stomach. Her hands trembled as she looked at the silver card, a wave of intense worry washing over her.

She assumed Lorenzo had desperately fabricated something to save her pride, and now they were about to be arrested. She grabbed his sleeve, whispering frantically, "Lorenzo... please, let's just leave before they call the police. Maybe we should just go."

Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed. The ignorance of the staff was alarming; the guard couldn't even recognize a Supreme VIP card issued directly by the Lancaster patriarch.

"Are you absolutely sure you are familiar with every single tier of invitation authorized for this venue?" Lorenzo asked the guard, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying tone.

The guard sneered, resting his hand heavily on his baton. "I've been working high-end security for five years, and I've never seen a weird, unbranded piece of metal like this. It’s definitely a cheap fake. Get lost right now, both of you, and stop disturbing the actual, valued guests of Vanguard Apex."

Chloe stepped closer, her face triumphant as she pointed toward the pavement. "Remember the bet, Lorenzo? Kneel down. Both of you! Drop to your knees and beg for my forgiveness right now!"

"Wait a moment!"

A sharp, authoritative voice cut through the chaos from the main lobby. The heavy glass doors swung open, and a woman dressed in a clean, sharp charcoal suit strode out, her high heels clicking aggressively against the marble.

Her lanyard identified her as the Chief Executive Director of Global Events for Vanguard Apex.

Her face was dead-pale, and her eyes were locked entirely on the silver-gray card in the guard's hand.

“Oh my goodness. What have you done!”

Victoria whispered, her heart nearly dropping as she stared at the silver-gray card in the security guard’s hand with wide, horrified eyes.

Chloe, completely oblivious to the sudden drop in temperature, let out a loud, triumphant screech.

"Director Victoria! You’ve come at just the right time! There are people here trying to use fake invitations to sneak into the banquet hall. Please have them thrown out immediately! They're ruining the atmosphere for actual investors!"

Hearing Chloe's authoritative tone, the security guard panicked. Terrified of losing his high-paying job over a minor incident with low-class trespassers, he lunged forward, roughly trying to push Lorenzo and Roxana off the marble steps.

Victoria's face went from pale to a dangerous, livid crimson of fury.

Seeing her expression, Chloe practically preened in her gold gown. "Look at that, Lorenzo. You've completely angered Director Victoria. And Roxana, look at this useless boyfriend of yours. He only ever ruins everything he touches."

Roxana’s fingers tightened against Lorenzo’s arm, her breathing shallow. But Lorenzo merely patted her hand, his posture relaxed, his voice calm, and reassuring. "Don't worry. Relax."

The security guard, growing more anxious by the second as Victoria marched toward them, physically grabbed Lorenzo’s shoulder to drag him down the steps.

SLAP!

Victoria’s palm connected squarely across the security guard's face in a brutal, ringing slap. The sheer force of it sent the burly man stumbling back against the velvet ropes.

"Stop right there!" Victoria roared, her voice shaking with an unfiltered fury that paralyzed the entire crowd. "Did you get this job through connections, you incompetent fool?! Who gave you the audacity to lay hands on a Supreme VIP?!"