The atmosphere was tense and the air was thick with unease. Davis, on his wheelchair sat still, fists clenching and unclenching in rhythmic tension as the murmurs around the gala grew louder.
Every passing second heightened the pressure. Time was slipping, and he had to fix this mess before it spiraled further.
The online scandal had cast a long, dark shadow over what was meant to be a triumphant night.
With none of his team present and no solid evidence to refute the damaging narrative spreading online, there was no clear way to contain the growing unease at the gala.
A temporary solution had to be enacted fast and damage control was all he could think of now.
He exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers against his temples. The throbbing there mirrored the urgency pulsing through his mind.
"Call the manager over," he said coldly, the authority in his voice slicing through the panic. "He’s got a role to play if we’re going to buy some time."
In the past, Davis would have chosen silence, would have retreated into the shadows, wallowing in self-pity, letting fate roll over him and letting the world move on without him.
But tonight was different. He thought of her—of all she’d sacrificed to make this evening a reality.
He couldn’t afford to falter now. Not when someone was hell bent on ruining everything she’d built.
He could no longer afford to stay on the sidelines and let that effort go to waste.
He would’ve preferred to rise on his own two feet and step into the fire and reclaim control right here and now but her warning echoed in his mind: Lie low. Don’t alert the enemy. To her, caution was strength. She’d always favored strategy over showdowns.
He glanced toward Ethan,a glint of resolve in his eyes . "Get me a mask. If investors are backing out, then I’ll be the one investor bold enough to make them rethink, to pull them back in "
Alex gawked. "A mask? What exactly are you planning to do?"
Before Davis could answer, Ethan stepped forward and handed him the item. A sleek, half-face mask—simple, yet regal.
Davis took the mask Ethan had already pulled out without hesitation. While he carefully and lazily slid it on, his lips curled up slightly "Saving my wife’s vision," he replied.
Alex blinked. "Wait—you already had a mask? Why? Who brings a mask to a corporate launch?" This isn’t a masquerade gala."
Davis chuckled faintly. "Call it foresight. Someone planned ahead." Davis smiled as he adjusted the mask.
It framed his sharp features perfectly, leaving part of his face visible which added an edge of mystery and power.
Behind the mask, he exuded the cold, commanding aura of a CEO—one that intrigued and intimidated. He no longer looked like the Davis Allen they once knew.
Alex, Matt, and Luca—still busy with calls—paused as the full weight of what Davis was doing dawned on them. They had known him to play the long game.
But even they hadn’t expected this kind of comeback. Of course. This was Davis. He never showed all his cards at once.
The manager, Mr. Stan, arrived shortly after, breathless and visibly rattled. Sweat glistened on his forehead; his hands trembled at his sides.
The once-friendly, mild-mannered Davis he’d coordinated with for the last week was nowhere in sight. What stood before him now was something colder, domineering and sharper.
The launch was spiraling and with Jessica nowhere in sight, dread pooled in his stomach. She was the mind behind every detail of this launch. If she was absent, it was likely already a lost cause.
Now, he had to face Davis. And the man before him was no longer calm, he was afraid this might be his last day in service in this company.
"Mr. Stan," Davis began, voice razor-sharp, "tonight decides if this company roots itself in Noveria or walks away. You have a role in that decision."
Mr. Stan straightened like a soldier before a general. "Yes, sir. I await your instructions."
"Address the press and citizens. Acknowledge the news without confirming anything. Apologize if necessary. Ask for their patience—tell them a full report will be given by tomorrow morning. We need to stall just long enough to uncover whoever’s behind this mess." Davis instructed concisely.
"Understood." With a bow, the manager left to execute the plan.
Moments later, he emerged on stage, delivering a calm and respectful address. He appealed for understanding and cooperation, promising clarity by morning. The whispers in the crowd began to soften, replaced by cautious curiosity.
Meanwhile, Davis slipped out with Ethan through a side entrance which they had entered from. It was time for his true arrival.
Not long after, a Rolls-Royce Spectre pulled up at the main entrance. All chatter ceased. The photographers froze, their eyes wide. Even the guests storming out in disappointment stopped in their tracks.
Every eye turned to the luxurious car.
Guards swiftly exited the SUV following behind, one retrieving a sleek wheelchair while the others formed a protective ring. Shielded from view, Davis was helped into the chair, his posture straight, his demeanor icy and composed.
Clad in a sharp suit, his masked expression unreadable, he was the embodiment of power. Guests craned their necks for a glimpse, stunned into stillness.
"Who is that?" someone whispered.
"Is that the mysterious CEO? Or a new investor?"murmured another.
Their curiosity ignited, flaring like wildfire. Instead of leaving, the crowd slowly filtered back into the hall, trying to make sense of the unfolding drama.
Inside, the atmosphere had shifted. Those who had been ready to leave returned to their seats.
The room buzzed again, no longer with fear but with renewed interest. The cameramen snapped back to reality as the manager approached to formally receive the distinguished guest.
Shutters clicked furiously, desperate to capture this moment. Ethan, watching from the sidelines, could hardly believe it. The entrance was flawless.
As Davis was wheeled in, guests craned their necks to see. Some admired his rare car, others whispered about his aura. And still more were captivated by the mystery of the mask.
A few elderly investors looked on with keen interest, their minds already matching their daughters to his enigmatic presence.
And the investors who had considered pulling out? Reconsidered on the spot and stayed to observe the situation before deciding. In all, nobody considered he was seated in a wheelchair.
Davis’ presence was cold, calculated and commanding, leaving them in contemplation. He was no longer just a CEO or a hidden investor. He was like the storm that silenced doubts.
Wild whispers resumed as phones lit up across the room. People frantically contacted their offices. Assistants on the other end were being ordered to prepare investment documents immediately and deals that had been on the verge of collapse were back on the table.
Feeling the shift in atmosphere, Davis pulled out his phone, unsure of what he might find next.
But then, a rare smile tugged at the corners of his lips.