Chapter 80 The Fallout

• The morning after the gala was anything but quiet.
• Scarlett sat at the head of the long glass conference table, its surface gleaming under the cold, white lights. Outside the boardroom’s glass wall, Vale International’s headquarters buzzed with an energy that felt almost manic—assistants rushing down corridors, reporters shouting from the lobby below, security escorts stationed at every corner.
• Her phone screen was littered with notifications: