Chapter 8 - The Gala of Sabotage
When they arrived at St. Jude, the medical wing was in absolute chaos. But the moment Arthur Vance stepped through the automatic doors, the entire hospital administration snapped into high gear. The Baltimore surgical team arrived via rooftop helipad twenty minutes later.
After four grueling hours in the surgical theater, the lead surgeon stepped out, pulling down his mask with a tired but victorious smile.
"The pulmonary blockage has been cleared, Miss Sterling. Her vitals are stabilizing. She is out of immediate danger."
Lily collapsed onto the waiting room bench, weeping tears of pure, unadulterated relief. Arthur stood over her, his hand resting gently on her head, offering a quiet, steady presence that she had never experienced in her entire life.
Over the next four days, Lily practically lived between her mother’s luxury recovery suite and the Grand Ballroom of the Vance Tower.
She poured her entire soul into the Winter Solstice Gala project. She sourced thousands of rare, snow-white Ecuadorian roses, frosted pine boughs, silver birch arches, and cascading crystal garlands that transformed the sterile, eighty-story glass penthouse into a breathtaking, enchanted winter forest. It was ethereal, majestic, and completely unlike anything high society had ever witnessed.
However, in the shadows of the executive floor, jealousy was brewing into poison.
Victoria Sterling and Julian Cross watched the transformation with mounting rage. Victoria had discovered from her father that Arthur had spent over two hundred thousand dollars on Eleanor Sterling’s medical bills and had assigned his top security detail to guard Lily’s family.
"She’s not just a florist to him, Julian," Victoria hissed in the dark corridor behind the banquet kitchens on the night of the gala. "He knows who she is. If Arthur uncovers the truth about what my father did to Richard Sterling ten years ago, we will all be ruined."
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Julian pulled a small glass vial containing a concentrated chemical defoliant from his tuxedo pocket. "Don't panic. In two hours, the city's most powerful investors, politicians, and media moguls will walk into this room. If the grand centerpiece—the fifty-thousand-dollar centerpiece Lily designed—withers into black sludge in front of the cameras, Arthur will have no choice but to fire her for gross incompetence and fraud."
Julian slipped into the dimly lit ballroom while the staff was on break and sprayed the caustic liquid over the massive floral archway that framed the VIP stage.
