Vanguard Gala Pt. 3

Damian Kane's commanding voice filled the grand ballroom as he addressed the audience from the stage. His words were sharp, concise, and carried an air of authority that left no room for doubt about his stature. The crowd listened attentively, their gazes locked onto him as though he held the secrets of the universe in his perfectly tailored suit.

You and Liam stood near the back, watching intently. Every word Damian said only seemed to amplify the pressure on your shoulders. He was charismatic, yes, but also distant—untouchable in a way that made your task feel even more impossible.

“We need a plan,” you whispered to Liam, keeping your voice low enough not to draw attention.

“No kidding,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the room. “We can’t just walk up to him right after he steps offstage. That’s a no-go.”

You nodded in agreement, your hands tightening around your clutch. The thought of trying to engage someone like Damian in conversation felt akin to stepping into a lion’s den. He wasn’t the kind of man who would be impressed by small talk or flattery, and you had no idea what approach would even work.

“Maybe...” Liam hesitated, then gestured subtly toward a cluster of men standing off to the side. “What about his circle? People like him always have an entourage, right?”

You followed his gaze, studying the group. They all looked the part—expensive suits, confident postures, easy smiles. The problem was, none of them were actively interacting with Damian.

“How do we even know who’s close to him?” you asked, frustration creeping into your voice.

“We don’t,” Liam admitted, “but it’s a start. Look, if we just pick someone who looks important and see where it goes...” He trailed off, his tone uncertain but hopeful.

Your eyes landed on one man in particular—a dark-haired fellow with a sharp jawline and an air of smug confidence. He stood near the edge of the group, chatting animatedly with another attendee while occasionally glancing toward the stage where Damian was still speaking.

“What about him?” you asked, nodding toward the man.

Liam shrugged. “Looks like he could be somebody. Go talk to him. Feel it out.”

“Why me?” you hissed, though you already knew the answer.

“Because you look like that,” Liam replied with a pointed look at your dress. “He’s more likely to talk to you.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Taking a steadying breath, you adjusted your posture, plastered on a polite smile, and started toward the man.

He noticed you approaching almost immediately, his dark eyes flicking over you with a quick but unmistakable glimmer of interest. When you reached him, he turned his full attention to you, his expression effortlessly charming.

“Evening,” he said smoothly, his voice deep and pleasant.

“Hi,” you replied, keeping your tone light and friendly. “I couldn’t help but notice you seemed pretty familiar with Mr. Kane.”

The man’s smile widened just a fraction. “Oh, Damian and I go way back. We’ve worked on a few deals together.”

You nodded, feigning nonchalance as your heart leapt. This was good—this was progress. “That must be fascinating. I imagine he’s not the easiest person to work with.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d be right about that. But, you know, once you understand how he operates, it’s not so bad. He’s just...particular.”

You tilted your head, curiosity genuine. “Particular how?”

He took a sip of his drink, considering your question. “He respects people who can hold their own. Doesn’t tolerate weakness or indecision. If you’re confident, assertive, and know your stuff, he’ll take you seriously.”

“That makes sense,” you said, nodding thoughtfully. “Someone like him must have pretty high standards.”

“Very high,” the man agreed, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than was strictly professional. “But you seem like someone who could meet them.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks heat slightly. “That’s kind of you to say,” you replied, keeping your tone polite but distant.

“Not just kind—honest,” he said, his smile never wavering. “So, what brings you here tonight? You don’t strike me as the usual crowd.”

You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “I’m here with a friend,” you said finally, glancing toward where Liam stood watching from a safe distance. “We’re...testing the waters, I guess you could say.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Smart move. This crowd can be intimidating, but it’s all about connections. If you play your cards right, you could make some valuable ones tonight.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, smiling politely.

He leaned in slightly, his tone dropping to something more conspiratorial. “Tell you what—if you’re serious about making an impression, I might be able to help. Damian’s a tough nut to crack, but I could put in a good word.”

Your pulse quickened at the offer, and you **** yourself to maintain your composure. “That’s generous of you,” you said carefully. “But I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It’s no imposition,” he said smoothly. “Anything for a woman who clearly has a good head on her shoulders.”

Something about his tone made you pause—a subtle undertone that felt slightly off. But you brushed it aside, focusing instead on the opportunity he was offering. If he could get you closer to Damian, that was all that mattered.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he replied, his smile as charming as ever. “Why don’t we grab another drink and talk strategy? I can give you some tips on how to approach him.”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. As you followed him toward the bar, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something about this was too good to be true. But with the weight of the trial looming over you, you didn’t feel like you had the luxury of being cautious.

Liam’s gaze followed you as you trailed behind the dark-haired man toward the bar. His sharp eyes studied every subtle shift in your body language, every cautious glance you cast over your shoulder. He felt a knot of unease twisting in his gut but couldn’t place why. From where he stood, the guy seemed to be ticking all the right boxes: confident, connected, and charming enough to open doors you couldn’t get through on your own. Still, something about the whole situation felt...off.

You, however, didn’t have the luxury to second-guess. The man—he’d introduced himself as Vincent—held out a fresh glass of champagne to you with an easy smile.

"Here," he said, his tone casual yet charged with an undertone of intention. "A little liquid courage, if you need it."

You accepted the glass, forcing a polite smile as you sipped. “Thanks. It’s been...an overwhelming evening.”

“I can imagine,” Vincent replied, his dark eyes lingering on you just a fraction too long. “But you seem to be handling it well. Most people would be completely out of their depth here.”

Your laugh was light, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m doing my best to blend in.”

“You’re doing more than that,” he said, leaning slightly closer. “Trust me, you’ve already caught more attention than you realize.”

You swallowed hard, forcing down the champagne and the surge of discomfort his words brought. The heat in his gaze was palpable, and you could feel it creeping along your skin. Still, you couldn’t afford to back out now.

“Attention isn’t always a good thing,” you replied, trying to keep the conversation neutral.

“In your case, I’d say it is,” Vincent countered smoothly. “You’ve got...something about you. An elegance, maybe. A presence. I see why Damian might take notice.”

Your pulse quickened at the mention of Damian, and you latched onto it like a lifeline. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” Vincent said, his tone firm. “But he’s not the type to approach people directly. You’d need someone to vouch for you, to show him you’re worth his time.”

“And you’d be willing to do that?” you asked, tilting your head just slightly, playing into the role you knew he wanted to see.

“For you?” He smiled again, a flash of teeth. “I think I could be persuaded.”

Your stomach churned, but you mirrored his smile, knowing you had little choice. “That’s...very kind of you.”

Vincent chuckled softly, setting his empty glass on the bar and offering you his arm. “Why don’t we step away from the crowd for a bit? It’s easier to talk strategy without all the noise.”

You hesitated for a split second, glancing toward Liam. He gave you an encouraging nod, though his jaw was tight. Taking a deep breath, you slipped your hand onto Vincent’s arm and allowed him to lead you away.