"Exactly!" another voice joined in. "Landing a partnership with Cosmos Group is a coup, Mr. Lewis. Ms. Lewis' talent is clear. If you're planning to hand the reins of the company to her, we get it. It's also understandable she might not see the need to be here. She's young, brilliant, and probably a little arrogant. She likely doesn't think she needs to show respect to a room full of old-timers." Scott listened to the remarks, his silence speaking volumes. Hearing this, Ernesto quickly feigned defense. "What kind of talk is that? I'm sure Ms. Lewis isn't like that at all! She's probably just running late. Let's all be patient a little longer." Monique chimed in, her tone placating. "Yes, let's wait. After all, Chloe is the guest of honor. This is meant to be a celebration. No need to ruin the mood over a small delay." Her words, though seemingly reasonable, subtly reinforced the idea that Chloe's lateness was a slight against everyone present. "Dad," Carolyn added softly, stepping forward with a gentle demeanor she hoped would charm the room. "I'm sure my sister has a good reason. Please, everyone, let's just give her a bit more time." Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Carolyn gracefully ascended the few steps to the stage. She moved to Scott's side and slipped her arm through his in a show of familial solidarity. The gesture did not go unnoticed. "Carolyn Lewis, honey, try calling your sister, will you?" Monique said, deliberately using her daughter's full name for the audience. "We've waited long enough. Any longer would be truly disrespectful." "Of course, Mom. Dad, I'll call her right now," Carolyn replied obediently. She took out her phone, made a show of dialing, and put the call on speakerphone for all to hear. The result was the same automated message. "The number you have dialed is currently unavailable." Carolyn pretended to be startled, bringing a hand to her mouth. "Her phone is off. Does that mean... she really isn't coming?" Come on, you little witch. You have to show up. You need to be here in person to see your own downfall, don't you? Everything was set. Without the main player, the show couldn't go on. So many key people were in the room—Arthur, Madilyn, and Charles, who valued her so highly. When they all saw her exposed as low-class, with her accomplishments painted as nothing but transactions, how could she possibly recover?With all the media present, she wouldn't even need to defend herself. The headlines would write the story for her. Public opinion would bury her. She'd be branded forever as a social climber who slept her way to the top. Honestly, her not being here now was perfect. It was wearing down the patience of every important person in the room. Once their goodwill vanished, who would have any sympathy left for her? Carolyn hid a thrill of satisfaction. Here she was, present and composed, gentle and unassuming—earning points with every passing minute. Chloe, you'd better get here soon. While Carolyn was eager for Chloe's arrival, Jennifer, standing beside Arthur, wore a look of pure, unveiled triumph. All annoyance over the matching dress was gone, replaced by the smug demeanor of a victor. She held Arthur's arm tightly, looking for all the world like a preening peacock. Chloe, you'll never be a problem for me again. And Arthur—you'll never do a thing for her ever again. So what if you loved her? Go repent to a ghost. The only one radiating genuine concern was Charles. He had checked his watch countless times. If Chloe said she would come, she kept her word. Her prolonged absence meant only one thing—something was wrong. But what? With so many eyes on him, Charles couldn't make a scene. After checking his watch for the eleventh time, he could wait no longer. He turned to Arthur, his voice low but urgent. "Find out where Chloe is. Now. I need to know if she's safe." The words if she's safe hit Arthur like a physical blow. His expression shifted, comprehension dawning. He pulled out his phone immediately and turned away, striding quickly toward the exit. Jennifer watched his hurried departure, a faint, cold smile touching her lips. Too little, too late. Go on, then. Go and find what's left of her. Then again, you probably won't be the one to find her first. That handsome boyfriend of hers is likely already on the scene.What a shame none of these people here will get to see the final act.