The Cavendish Annual Gala was not just a charity event—it was a battlefield. Behind the opulent chandeliers and champagne flutes, power was measured in glances, whispers, and headlines. This year, with the added weight of public scrutiny and internal war, the stakes were higher than ever.
Mira stood in front of the full-length mirror inside her dressing suite. The stylist stepped back, breath caught.
"Ma'am," the woman said softly. "You don't just look beautiful. You look... invincible."
The gown Mira chose was a deep navy blue, with a silk train that glided like moonlight and subtle diamonds embedded along the neckline. A custom piece. Not just for aesthetics—but strategy. She knew who would be watching.
"You'll have a driver waiting," Anaya said from the doorway. "Leo will join you directly there. He's finalizing the board's prepared statement."
Mira nodded. "Good. Tonight isn't just about elegance. It's war."
---
Taj Palace Ballroom – 8:12 p.m.
Flashbulbs fired like rapid gunshots as Mira stepped out of the car and onto the red carpet. Reporters strained against velvet ropes, shouting questions:
"Ms. Verma! Will you address the allegations made last month?"
"Are you and Mr. Cavendish still aligned on succession?"
"Are you aware of Mr. Adrian Cavendish's acquisition of Kairo Industries?"
Mira gave one poised glance over her shoulder, then swept into the venue with practiced ease.
Inside, the elite of Mumbai society mingled—business tycoons, political figures, foreign investors, even a few Bollywood stars. It was a curated ecosystem of wealth and influence.
Leo found her quickly, his black tux crisp, his watch glinting under the golden lights. But his eyes, when they met hers, were serious.
"They know about Kairo," she said before he could speak.
He nodded. "Adrian moved fast. He didn't just buy shares—he bought the debts. He owns their supply chains now."
"That's Gloria's doing."
"Possibly," Leo said, scanning the room. "But he's also here to humiliate us. Publicly."
A moment later, the emcee tapped the mic.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. We begin tonight's program with a speech from our distinguished guest—Mr. Adrian Cavendish."
Mira and Leo exchanged one last glance.
Then the war began.
---
On Stage – 8:40 p.m.
Adrian's voice was velvet over a razor blade.
He opened with charm, anecdotes, wit. He spoke of resilience, the future of innovation, and then slowly pivoted.
"But resilience," he said, "requires honest leadership. A willingness to evolve. And sometimes... to accept when the current vision no longer serves the next generation."
There was a murmur.
"It is with deep humility," Adrian continued, "that I've accepted the board's invitation to act as interim advisor during this strategic transition."
Gasps.
Leo's expression turned stone. Mira's fists clenched.
The board hadn't approved that. Gloria had planted it.
Adrian stepped down from the podium with a slight bow.
And Mira stepped up.
---
Mira's Speech
"I'm grateful Mr. Cavendish is so confident in his own vision," Mira began, her voice cool and clear. "But confidence, as we know, doesn't equal legitimacy."
She smiled.
"As COO, and under the full authority of the current Board of Directors, I would like to clarify that no formal advisory role has been approved outside of standard review."
Cameras turned. Reporters scribbled.
"This company has weathered storms, yes. But not because of flashy acquisitions or media noise. We survived because of grit. Because of teams who worked 20-hour days. Because of trust. And that trust... is earned. Not inherited."
A round of applause began to spread. Mira held her ground.
"We're not in transition. We're in transformation. And transformation begins with truth. Not backroom deals."
When she stepped off the podium, Adrian stood by the exit, his eyes dark.
"You've made a mistake," he said.
Mira didn't slow. "You made it first."
---
Later That Night – Mira's Apartment
Leo and Mira sat on the balcony, the city lights flickering like dying stars.
"You stole the night," Leo said, handing her a glass of water.
"I didn't steal it. I reclaimed it."
They were quiet for a while. The sound of traffic below was distant.
"Do you think Adrian will back off?" she asked.
Leo shook his head. "No. He's only just begun."
"But so have we."
He looked at her, something unspoken passing between them.
She leaned forward. "You trust me?"
"With everything," Leo said.
And for the first time in weeks, Mira allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could win.
---