Chapter 13 The Banquet Of Kings
"Hand-deliver every single one of them. Tonight."
Mr. Harrington’s command echoed through the Sterling Global executive suite staring at the dozens of gold-embossed black envelopes across the table.
Within the hour, armored couriers scattered across the country. Issuing invitations to very important families.
Black envelopes stamped with the Sterling crest, a lion rampant against a seal gold arrived at the homes of America's most powerful families. The Morgan family received theirs in their Manhattan penthouse. The Rockefellers found theirs waiting on a silver tray in their Hudson Valley estate. The Vanderbilts opened theirs over breakfast in Newport.
Tech billionaires in Silicon Valley, real estate magnates in Manhattan, and the oldest, most untouchable families in American high society all halted their evening plans to stare at the Sterling crest.
Nobody knew exactly why Victor Sterling had suddenly called a banquet, but the rumors spread through the elite circles like a wi-fi.
Some say, the old man is dying, He's selling the company. He's finally naming a successor. But one knew the truth. Everyone RSVP'd yes.
The Chairman has found his heir. Williams Cross thought. "He found him," Williams Cross breathed, his hands actually trembling as he stared at the black invitation resting on his glass desk. He immediately snatched his phone and dialed his son.
"Dad?" Damien answered, the noise of the gym activities thumping in the background. "I need you to come to my office. Now."
Damien pauses. "Is something wrong?"
"Just come."
Damien arrived ten minutes later, looking confused and curious. Sweating on his forehead. He'd been at the gym, trying to burn off the humiliation of the boutique incident.
His father was waiting with the invitation in his hand.
“Dad, you called.”
"Listen to me very carefully, Damien," Williams said, his voice deadly serious. "I think Chairman Sterling has finally found his missing grandson. Tonight, he is hosting a private banquet. Every powerful family in the country will be there, and the future head of Sterling Global will make his first public appearance."
Damien froze. "What?"
Williams nodded his head and gently waved the invite in his hands.
"Sterling's grandson? I thought he died in a car crash decades ago."
Williams crossed his legs, “Well, that was what everyone believed. But I have my sources. I suppose he's announcing him tonight.” William’s eyes met his son's. "Do whatever it takes to become his friend."
Damien's mind raced. The missing heir. The mysterious grandson and successor of the Sterling group. If he could get close to that person, his future would be guaranteed. No more scraping for contracts, and relying on his father's name. He would have the ear of the most powerful family in America.
"Of course, Dad," Damien said quickly. "I'll make sure he knows the Cross family is loyal."
Richard nodded slowly. "Your future depends on tonight."
Damien smiled confidently, leaning back against the leather couch. As the humiliating memory of the boutique incident earlier filled his mind. He knew it was a weird misunderstanding. That's all it was. Some actor Ethan had hired to make a point. It didn't matter anymore. Tonight, he would secure his place in the Sterling inner circle.
"Don't worry, Dad. I'm good at making friends."
"Take Kim," Richard advised. His expression didn't change.
Damien blinked. "Kim?"
"Her father is one of the largest shareholders in Sterling Global. If the Cross family allies with the Ashfords..." Richard paused. "And earns Sterling's favor... our position becomes completely untouchable."
Damien's smile widened. He'd been dating Kim for six months, and she'd always been a status symbol. Now she was a tool, an asset, and a stepping stone.
"Done."
Kim Ashford received the news with barely concealed excitement.
She stood in her father's penthouse, watching Damien pace back and forth. Her father, Edward Ashford, heir to a shipping fortune that had been in the family for five generations sat in his leather armchair, sipping whiskey.
"The banquet tonight," Edward said slowly. "It's the most important social event in decades."
Kim nodded eagerly. "I know, Father. Damien's taking me."
Edward's eyes flicked to Damien. "The Cross family has influence. But not enough." He paused. "If you two can secure Sterling's favor, the Ashford name rises with yours."
Kim Ashford practically shrieked with joy. She imagined dancing with the mysterious Sterling heir. Becoming the center of attention. Having everyone in the room look at her with envy.
"Don't worry, Father," she said confidently. "I know how to make an impression."
Sterling Mansion was in chaos, with Ethan standing in the middle of it all, dumbfounded.
He had been measured for clothes. Several times. The tailors had circled him like sharks, taking notes, adjusting seams, murmuring about balances and fabrics he didn't understand.
Now he was wearing his first perfectly tailored suit.
"Stop pulling at the collar, Ethan. You look perfect."
Ethan dropped his hand from the tie, letting out a deep nervous breath. The custom-tailored midnight-blue suit fit him like a second skin, woven from fabric that cost more than he had earned in five years of hauling bricks. Yet, he still felt like he was suffocating. He looked at his reflection in the antique mirror of one of Victor’s private suites, expecting to see the tired, dirty construction worker staring back.
He didn't. He looked like a king. But his hands still felt a bit rough, and his mind was still spinning.
"Young Master." Mr. Harrington's voice came from behind him. "The Chairman requests your presence in his study."
Ethan turned. "Now?"
"Now."
The study was larger than Ethan's entire apartment. Bookshelves lined the walls. A fire crackled in the hearth. Victor sat behind a massive desk, with his hands folded in front of him.
Across from him sat a woman. Sophia Hart. A woman he recognized. She was dressed in a cream-colored gown that somehow looked both elegant and classy. Her dark hair was pulled back and her eyes were focused on him.
“You look wonderful, Ethan.” smiling at Ethan.
"I feel like a fraud," Ethan admitted quietly.
"You are a survivor," Victor corrected gently, standing up from his massive desk. He gestured to the woman sitting across from him with her eyes fixed on a laptop screen. "Now, focus.”
Sophia didn't pay a glance at Ethan. She was still focused on glancing between the scattered photographs, hard drives, and server schematics spread across the wood and the laptop. Ethan was confused. “What’s going on?”
"Someone destroyed the surveillance server at Hart Group.” Victor answered before focusing his gaze back at Sophia. "Could someone destroy the Hart Group servers without inside help?" Victor asked, tapping his silver cane against the floor.
"Impossible," Sophia stated immediately. She pointed to a blueprint of her building's security grid. "The forty-fifth-floor server room is biometric. Only three people have access, the IT Administrator, the Security Director, and myself. To wipe the drive and physically destroy the backup, someone inside my executive team had to authorize it."
