The Golden Palace in the heart of Chicago bustled with the esteemed guests and employees of Doren's Group. Today was the day the new President of Doren's Group- Winston Van Doren, will officially appear as the President of Doren's Group.
"Scarlett, the party has begun. I think you should change into a gown to match the vibe." One of the employees looked at the woman wearing a beige shirt, instructing the hotel staff. Jule sighed at Scarlett's lack of attention.
"Just five minutes, and I will be done." Scarlett winked at Jule before moving to the other corner.
Scarlett looked around the Banquet hall with her sharp cat eyes. After exactly five minutes, she nodded her head in self-satisfaction.
"It's all done. Now I can change into my suit." Scarlett stretched her arms and walked upstairs, where she had booked a private room to keep her belongings.
Inside the banquet hall, the atmosphere turned cold and eerily silent. Women looked at the intruder with wobbly legs and sweet smiles plastered on their lips.
"Oh God! Our president is the angel of death." One of the young employees couldn't hold back and whisper yelled, breaking the silence in the hall.
"Congratulations, President Van!" The higher-ups of the company fawned around Winston to earn browny points.
"Hmm." Winston hummed in response.
"Where is grandfather?" Winston hates to be surrounded by the crowd. He needed someone to take off these pestering flies.
"His secretary informed us that he arrived half an hour ago and is probably taking his medicines in the suite." Tim- Winston's assistant moved near his ear and whispered.
Winston grunted in response with annoyance. Noticing his displeasure, the senior directors changed the subject of their discussion and shared their ideas about the upcoming project their company was about to handle.
Upstairs, Scarlett wore her beige suit with black stiletto heels. She folded her sleeves to show her fair wrist bandaged in a Rolex Everose gold watch.
"Mr Doren, your grandson has arrived. It is time for you to make an appearance." Scarlett walked into the room next door and informed the old man.
"Ha! That pity brat. Scarlett, take good care of my grandson. With you guiding him, I can be at ease." Mr Doren patted Scarlett's shoulder. His words showed the ample amount of trust he had for Scarlett.
"Don't worry, Mr Doren. I won't disappoint you." Scarlett kept her face straight and held Phillip Doren's arm. She then guided him towards the banquet hall.
The banquet hall was bustling with people wearing sparkling and shimmering gowns and men wearing custom-made suits.
"The old chairman is here." Someone in the crowd noticed the arrival of Phillip and Scarlett.
Scarlett, guide me to the stage." Phillip patted Scarlett's hand.
"But Mr Doren, you haven't met your grandson." Despite her question, Scarlett signalled the employee on the stage to welcome Phillip on the stage.
"That brat can wait." Phillip ignored his grandson and all the guests ready waiting to greet him.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let us welcome the King of Doren's Group, Phillip Van Doren to the stage for his speech." The host announced and made way for Phillip and Scarlett.
"Stand beside me," Phillip whispered to Scarlett.
Scarlett smiled and shook her head. Phillip might be old, but his actions were childish. He wanted to use his health as a tool of blackmail.
Phillip looked around the crowd and noticed Winston sitting in the front row with his legs crossed and a smirk on his lips. He gave Winston a provocative look before coughing weakly.
Scarlett, who was standing beside him, looked in the direction of Winston, and her heart thumped. He was like an immortal archangel. In the dim glow of twilight, his face emerged as a masterpiece sculpted by divine hands. High, aristocratic cheekbones framed a jawline that could cut through uncertainty, casting a shadow of confidence. Beneath a broad forehead, eyes, deep and expressive, held the secrets of cuntless adventures, their colour an enigmatic blend of earth and sky. His nose, a precise work of art, commanded attention with arrogance. Lips, curved, whispered tales of both ruthlessness, and impatience. With each gesture, the sinewy grace of his neck and shoulders bespoke strength and resilience, completing a visage that walked the delicate line between rugged allure and refined elegance.
"... Welcome the new President of Doren's Group, Winston Van Doren." Scarlett returned to her senses. She did not listen to the speech because all her attention was drawn to the man. Feeling stupid, Scarlett gathered her thoughts and hid her embarrassment under the mask of her poker face.
