Chapter 8 - The Gala Night Shock
The Crestview Country Club rooftop ballroom was a spectacle of grand luxury. Crystal chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, glass walls offered a panoramic view of the sparkling city lights below, and a grand stage featured a massive 4K projection display showing live news and market ticker updates.
The room was filled with hundreds of wealthy guests—politicians, CEOs, high-society figures, and Oakridge High’s elite students and parents.
Brad Sterling stood near the central bar, wearing a five-thousand-dollar tailored tuxedo, laughing with his football friends.
“Look at this place,” Brad bragged. “My dad paid two hundred grand just for the catering.”
Suddenly, Brad spotted a figure walking out from the service kitchen carrying a silver tray of champagne flutes.
It was Leo Vance.
Leo was wearing a crisp black waiter uniform. His posture was perfectly upright, his expression unbothered as he served drinks to high-profile guests who didn't even bother to look at his face.
Brad smirked and nudged his friends. “Watch this.”
Brad walked over, loudly clapping his hands to draw the attention of the surrounding crowd.
“Hey! Waiter! Over here!” Brad shouted, his voice echoing over the smooth jazz music.
Several guests turned to look. Marcus Sterling, standing nearby talking to a senator, smiled proudly at his son’s aggressive presence.
Leo paused and turned, holding the tray balanced on one hand. “May I help you, Brad?”
“Yeah, my shoes look a little dusty,” Brad snickered loudly. “Since you’re getting paid twenty bucks an hour to serve us, how about you kneel down and wipe them off?”
A few spoiled teenagers chuckled. Chloe, standing near her parents, gasped in horror. “Brad, stop it!”
Leo didn't move. He stood tall, looking Brad dead in the eye.
“I wouldn't advise making a scene right now, Brad,” Leo said calmly. “Look at the clock.”
Brad laughed mockingly. “The clock? Why? Is your pumpkin turning into a carriage, busboy?”
At that exact second, a loud, sharp BEEP echoed from the main stage projection screen.
The smooth jazz music instantly cut out. The grand screen flashed from the Sterling Global logo to a harsh, flashing crimson red.
[ATTENTION: FINANCIAL EMERGENCY ALERT]
May you like
[STERLING GLOBAL HOLDINGS: MARGIN CALL DEFAULT]
The entire ballroom went dead silent.
