ONE NIGHT, ONE RING

Shifting tides

As the day of the gala approached, Alexander found himself increasingly restless, the tension building with every passing hour. He spent his days meticulously planning, but his nights were filled with fitful sleep and endless thoughts of how to regain the upper hand. He had called in favors, reached out to old family friends, and laid the groundwork for subtle alliances. He knew that at the gala, he couldn't afford any missteps. Every move had to be calculated, every conversation a potential turning point.

On the night of the gala, Alexander dressed with care. His tailored suit was a perfect fit, exuding confidence and control—exactly the image he needed to project. As he adjusted his cufflinks, he glanced in the mirror, his reflection staring back at him with a hardened resolve. This was no ordinary social event. This was war, and tonight, every smile and handshake would be part of his strategy.

When Alexander arrived at the grand ballroom, the scene was exactly what he had expected. The city's elite filled the room, sipping champagne and exchanging pleasantries, their laughter echoing through the marble halls. The chandeliers glittered overhead, casting a warm golden glow over the room, making everything shimmer with a sense of wealth and untouchable power. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and polished silver.

As he entered, he immediately spotted several familiar faces—business magnates, politicians, and socialites, all mingling with the kind of ease that only comes with old money and influence. But it wasn't them that held his attention.

It was Victoria.

She stood near the center of the room, dressed in a sleek, emerald-green gown that exuded sophistication and dominance. Her hair was perfectly styled, and as she laughed with Thomas Davenport and a few other high-profile guests, it was clear she was in her element. To anyone else, she would have looked like the epitome of grace and charm, but to Alexander, she was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Every smile, every gesture was part of her carefully crafted persona. She had manipulated her way into this world, and she wasn't about to let go of the power she had seized.

Alexander's jaw tightened as he observed her from across the room. Victoria caught his eye briefly, her smile faltering for just a second before she regained her composure. She knew he was here, and she knew what was at stake. But the way she carried herself, with that unshakeable confidence, told Alexander that she believed she had already won.

Not yet, he thought.

Keeping his expression neutral, Alexander made his way through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging polite greetings. He was looking for his moment, the perfect opportunity to begin undermining Victoria's influence, but he needed to be patient. If he rushed in, she would see it coming, and her defense would go up instantly.

As he navigated the room, a familiar voice called his name. Jessica.

"Alexander," she said softly, approaching him with a glass of champagne in hand. She was dressed elegantly, her eyes sharp and alert, always ready to assist. "You look like you're ready for battle."

He smiled tightly, taking the glass she offered. "That's because I am. Has anything changed?"

Jessica shook her head, scanning the room discreetly. "No. She's been working the crowd all night, cozying up to anyone who might be of use to her. Typical Victoria."

Alexander nodded, his gaze drifting back to his stepmother. "I need to talk to Davenport before she solidifies whatever she's trying to accomplish here."

Jessica glanced at Davenport, who was deep in conversation with Victoria and a few others. "It'll be tricky. He's been glued to her side for most of the evening. If you're going to get him alone, it'll have to be subtle."

Alexander took a sip of his drink, formulating a plan. "I'll bide my time. But when I get him alone, I need you to cover me. Make sure Victoria doesn't interfere."

Jessica gave a quick nod, her eyes determined. "Understood."

As the evening wore on, Alexander watched and waited, mingling with guests and making polite conversation, but always with his mind on Davenport and Victoria. He saw the way she charmed those around her, her smile never faltering, her laughter just the right amount of light. She was a master at this game, but Alexander knew she had a weakness. She relied on the perception of control—if he could disrupt that, even slightly, it might be enough to shake her confidence.

Finally, his moment came. Victoria had been momentarily distracted by an overly enthusiastic guest, leaving Davenport to step aside for a quiet moment near the balcony. Alexander saw his chance and took it.

He approached Davenport, his steps measured, his expression calm but serious.

"Mr. Davenport," Alexander greeted him, extending his hand. "It's good to see you again. My father always spoke highly of you."

Thomas Davenport turned, a smile breaking across his weathered face as he shook Alexander's hand warmly. "Ah, Alexander! It's been too long. Your father was a good man, one of the best. You've grown into quite the image of him."

Alexander forced a genuine smile, nodding respectfully. "Thank you. I'm doing my best to honor his legacy."

Davenport's eyes sparkled with the fondness of old memories. "Your father was a visionary. Always thinking three steps ahead of everyone else. How are you finding the business world these days? It's a different beast than when we started, isn't it?"

Alexander seized the moment, lowering his voice slightly. "It's been challenging, to say the least. Especially with the... complications that have arisen since my father passed."

Davenport raised an eyebrow, sensing the seriousness in Alexander's tone. "Complications?"

Alexander nodded, choosing his words carefully. "Victoria, my stepmother, has made things... difficult. She's positioned herself in ways that I believe my father never intended. I fear she's not acting in the best interests of the company—or the legacy my father built."

Davenport's expression darkened slightly as he regarded Alexander. "I see. That's a heavy accusation, son."

"I don't make it lightly," Alexander replied, his voice firm but controlled. "But I can't ignore what's happening. My father trusted you. He respected your judgment. I was hoping I might count on that same trust now."

Davenport was silent for a moment, his eyes searching Alexander's face for sincerity. Finally, he nodded. "Your father and I went back a long way. If you're saying something's wrong, then I'll listen. But you'll need more than just words, Alexander. You'll need proof."

Alexander's heart raced, but he maintained his composure. "I understand. And I'm working on it. All I ask is that you keep an open mind. Victoria is... skilled at masking her true intentions."

Davenport gave a thoughtful nod, his gaze shifting toward the crowd, where Victoria had rejoined the conversation. "I'll keep that in mind. But be careful, Alexander. This game you're playing—it's dangerous."

"I know," Alexander said, his voice steady. "But it's a game I have to win."

Davenport offered a final nod of understanding before he returned to the crowd, leaving Alexander standing by the balcony, a faint sense of hope flickering inside him. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

As he turned back toward the ballroom, he saw Jessica across the room, watching him closely. She gave him a subtle nod, indicating that all was clear—Victoria hadn't interfered. Not yet.

The night was far from over, and Alexander knew he had more work to do. But for the first time in days, he felt like he was no longer on the defensive. The tide had begun to shift, and soon, it would be his turn to strike.