Chapter 5 - The Vance Empire: Meeting the Man Who Owns the Shadows
Delaney sat down, feeling impossibly small in the enormous office, yet Salvatore’s posture never felt condescending.
Arthur poured two glasses of sparkling water and quietly retreated, closing the heavy double doors behind him.
“How is your wrist?” Salvatore asked first.
Delaney looked down at her arm.
“It’s fine. A little sore, but fine.”
“Good.”
Salvatore leaned back against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms.
“I had my people pull the analytics from last night’s broadcast.”
Delaney flinched slightly.
“I’d rather not talk about the video.”
“You should,” Salvatore countered smoothly. “Because your sister made eighty thousand dollars in brand engagement off your public humiliation in under twelve hours.”
A sharp gasp escaped Delaney’s throat.
“Eighty thousand?”
“And Jared Abbott’s private investment firm is using the viral attention to launch a new lifestyle podcast.” Salvatore’s voice hardened. “They are turning your pain into capital, Delaney. That is how parasites operate.”
Delaney felt a hot surge of anger in her chest.
It burned away the lingering shame, replacing it with something raw and fierce.
“Why do you care, Mr. Vance? You don't even know me. Why did you help me last night?”
Salvatore walked over to the window, staring out at the city below.
“Because I know what it’s like to be born into a family that treats you like a weapon or a disposable tool.”
He turned back to look at her.
“My family fought a war for control of this city for thirty years. I watched people smile in my face while sliding knives into my back. I despise bullies who use an audience to feel powerful.”
He walked over and picked up a thick folder, handing it to her.
Delaney opened it.
Inside were financial reports, ownership deeds, and a legal contract.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Daphne’s biggest sponsorship contract is with Valmont Cosmetics,” Salvatore explained calmly. “They represent sixty percent of her annual income. What she doesn’t know is that Vance Enterprises acquired the majority holding of Valmont’s parent company three days ago.”
Delaney’s eyes widened.
“You own her sponsor?”
“I own the ground she walks on,” Salvatore corrected quietly. “And I am going to ruin Jared Abbott’s firm by the end of the week. But that is only business. What I want to offer you is justice.”
“How?”
Salvatore stepped closer.
His shadow fell over her, warm and protective.
“In two weeks, the Metropolitan Fashion Gala takes place. Daphne is slated to host the red-carpet coverage. Jared is attending as her VIP guest.”
Salvatore paused, his gray eyes pinning hers with razor-sharp intent.
“I want you to attend as my guest.”
Delaney’s breath caught.
May you like
“Your guest? To the Met Gala?”
“Not just a guest,” Salvatore said, his voice dropping into a low, commanding register. “As my partner. As the woman who commands the room. We will give the internet a story that buries Daphne’s pathetic prank forever.”
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