Man: LOOK AT HER FACE! ABSOLUTELY PRICELESS!
Guest: Someone hand her a napkin before she ruins the floor.
Chloe: Are you finished laughing?
Eleanor: Clean yourself up and get out of my sight before I have security throw you into the street.
Chloe: You won't be throwing anyone anywhere tonight, Eleanor.
Conner Vance: Listen to the little girl, Mom. She thinks she's a businesswoman.
Conner chuckled, swirling his expensive red wine in a crystal glass while shaking his head in sheer amusement. The entire table chuckled along with him, treating Chloe's presence like a bad joke at an exclusive club. Eleanor smoothed down the front of her maroon velvet dress, regaining her haughty posture with deliberate arrogance[cite: 1].
Eleanor: People like you don't survive in our world, Chloe. You lack the pedigree.
Chloe: Pedigree? Is that what you call forging signatures on stolen real estate documents?
Conner's wine glass suddenly stopped halfway to his mouth, his smile faltering for a fraction of a second. Brendan Vance leaned forward across the white tablecloth, his eyes narrowing as he tried to assess how much information Chloe actually possessed.
Brendan Vance: What are you babbling about?
Chloe: You know exactly what I'm talking about, Brendan.
Eleanor: Security! Get this lunatic out of my sight immediately!
Chloe: Stay back, or you'll go down with them.
Chloe's voice cut through the ambient noise of the ballroom like a razor-sharp blade. The heavy breathing of the surrounding onlookers filled the tense silence as everyone realized this was no ordinary family dispute. Eleanor's face flushed a deep, mottled crimson as she realized the spotlight was shifting dangerously away from Chloe's humiliation and onto her family's carefully guarded secrets.
Eleanor: You have zero proof of anything, you ungrateful little brat!
Chloe: Proof is a funny thing, Eleanor. It tends to surface right when you least expect it.
Conner Vance: Dad, make her shut up. She's ruining the evening.
Brendan Vance: Let her talk, Conner. Let's see how deep a hole she wants to dig for herself.
Chloe slowly reached down to the empty chair beside her, her fingers wrapping around a sleek, black digital tablet resting on the velvet seat cushion. The screen was already unlocked, glowing brightly in the dim ambient lighting of the banquet hall. She pressed a single button, casting a digital window onto the large overhead projector screen mounted at the front of the grand ballroom for all the high-society investors to see.
Chloe: Take a good look at the screen, everyone. This is the real face of Apex Solutions.