Chapter 4 The Tension Beneath the Lights

CHAPTER FOUR

The lights dimmed slightly, a soft golden glow washing over the ballroom as the Thornwell logo shimmered on the massive screen overhead. The announcement had frozen every whisper, every sip, every step.

Zayne remained standing at the front, perfectly composed-until Gerald Roth took the mic.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Gerald began, his voice firm and precise. "Tonight isn't just about celebration. It's about legacy. And we are proud to announce the launch of Thornwell's most ambitious venture yet-Thornwell Studios, a groundbreaking partnership blending fashion, entertainment, and media on a global scale."

Polite applause echoed, but Zayne's brow twitched slightly. That wasn't what he'd planned.

"To lead this exciting division..." Gerald paused, eyes sweeping the room before landing on someone unexpected, "...we welcome our new Executive Director, Khalil Monté."

The applause returned, louder, mixed with gasps and camera flashes. Zayne didn't move. His jaw clenched once.

Khalil stepped forward with a polished smile, masking the fire dancing behind his eyes. He shook Gerald's hand, then turned to Zayne with a look that dared him to react.

Zara, standing near Lana, blinked. "Khalil? But Zayne didn't even-"

Lana leaned closer, whispering, "This wasn't Zayne's decision."

Zayne finally moved. He offered a curt nod, but said nothing. His silence was louder than outrage.

Valentina Kross watched from her table, a barely-there smirk tugging her lips. She raised a glass of wine toward Khalil. Power was shifting-and she saw the cracks forming.

---

After the announcement, music resumed, but the energy had changed.

Zayne moved to a quiet corner of the ballroom, shielding himself behind polite conversations. Papa J stood a few feet away, observant, arms folded. Lana approached, calm and assertive.

"You didn't approve that appointment," she said lowly.

Zayne didn't answer at first. His gaze followed Khalil as he laughed with reporters.

"No," Zayne replied finally. "I didn't."

"Then who did?"

Zayne looked toward the board's table-specifically, Gerald Roth.

---

Flashback Interlude: A Year Ago

The music of the gala fades as the screen dissolves into memory...

A dark hotel room in Milan. Rain tapped softly against the high-rise window. Zayne sat at the edge of a velvet couch, thumbing through the final pages of his father's tattered journal. The last entry was brief-just a name, circled in bold strokes.

"Kross. Deal gone wrong. Betrayal?"

Zayne's eyes lifted. Across from him, Lana Imani sat cross-legged on the floor, watching him with quiet concern. Her hair was damp from the rain; she had chased him across three cities to bring him back.

"You think Valentina Kross had something to do with your parents' death?" she asked, voice steady despite the madness of the question.

Zayne didn't answer right away. He closed the journal and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

"There were too many unanswered questions. That deal... my father pulled out just before the accident. And Gerald Roth was involved."

Lana looked down. "You can't trust anyone in that circle anymore."

"I don't." His voice was flat. "Not even Khalil."

Lana looked up sharply. "Khalil? He was twelve when your parents died."

"He knew things. Back then. He said something at the funeral... something no one else could've known unless they heard it from-" Zayne paused. "Unless they were told."

Lana swallowed hard, shifting uneasily. "Khalil's been close to the board. Maybe... too close."

Zayne's jaw clenched. "I disappeared for a year to investigate this. If Khalil's working with Gerald or Valentina, I need proof. And I need to get back before they bury it."

"You have to be careful, Zayne," Lana whispered. "They'd ruin you."

Zayne stood and walked to the window, staring out at the city skyline.

"I'd rather burn than be blind."

---

Back to present.

Zayne blinked, pulled from the memory by the sound of champagne glasses clinking nearby. He looked across the room, where Khalil now basked in the attention of board members-laughing, charming, flawless.

But Zayne saw through it now. He always had.

And if Gerald and Khalil wanted war...

Then he'd give them one.

---

CHAPTER FOUR (Continued)

"Whisphered Warnings"

Lana Imani moved through the crowd like a shadow, her champagne untouched. The gala's glamour didn't faze her - not the gowns, not the cameras. Her eyes were fixed on one person: Khalil Monté.

She found him near the balcony, smiling his smooth, practiced smile at a group of investors. When he caught sight of her, his grin flickered-only for a second. Then he dismissed the others with a graceful nod and stepped toward her.

"Lana," he said softly, "looking radiant as always. Still trailing after Zayne, I see."

"Still pretending you belong in his place," she replied without blinking.

Khalil chuckled, but his eyes darkened. "I earned everything I have."

"You earned nothing," Lana whispered. "You just waited for his world to crack so you could slide into the pieces."

He leaned in slightly, voice low. "You shouldn't be here, Lana."

"And you shouldn't be standing on someone else's foundation," she returned. "Tell me something, Khalil-do you still dream of being him, or are you finally satisfied ruining him instead?"

He said nothing.

But his jaw clenched.

Lana gave him one last look, then walked away, heels clicking like gunshots across the polished floor.

From across the room, Zayne watched them both.

The past wasn't just whispering anymore.

It was screaming.

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