CHAPTER 175: GALA (4)

The night unfolded like a dream for Gray.

After what felt like hours of conversations, introductions, light banter, and gentle clinks of crystal glasses, the atmosphere shifted again.

The lights dimmed slightly, casting a golden hue over the entire ballroom in the hotel. A subtle chime rang out from the speakers and almost instinctively, the guests turned their attention toward the center stage, where a single podium now stood, waiting.

Selina leaned in toward Gray.

"It’s time, Gray."

Gray gave a small nod, exhaling slowly. He’d been briefed about what would happen. Yesterday, Conrad had made sure that he would be briefed about what would happen today. He saw the schedule of progression of the program.

"Alright. Let’s go."

Selina stepped forward first, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. She ascended on the short stage with ease. She was walking with grace that it felt effortless.

Gray followed behind her. Even if he was nervous on the inside, his steps remained steady and his expression remained calm. The noise in the ballroom lowered to a hush as the two of them came into view beneath the spotlight.

Selina took her place behind the podium and adjusted the microphone with the poise of someone who had done this a hundred times before. She was doing everything with ease.

As she smiled in front, the music slowly faded. After a second, the room held its breath.

"Good evening, everyone," Selina started. Her voice was warm, even, and clear. "First, I’d like to thank every single one of you for being here tonight."

She scanned the room slowly, giving the crowd a moment to meet her gaze.

"This evening is very special to our family. This gala, which was held every year with the same care, the same attention, and, yes, the same extravagance, is a tradition that was started by my grandfather, Conrad Everett. And although he cannot be with us tonight, I know he’s watching closely in his room right now."

A few murmurs passed through the crowd. Some looked around, surprised. Others nodded knowingly. Selina gave a small, genuine smile.

"He wanted me to tell you, personally, that he deeply regrets not being able to attend. But he entrusted tonight’s festivities to someone he trusts very much."

She turned her head, gesturing softly toward Gray, who stepped up beside her.

"My grandfather has known Gray for some time now," she continued. "And if you’re wondering why a man his age would put something like this in the hands of someone like him..." she paused with the faintest smirk, "...well, you’ll understand by the time tonight ends."

There were a few light chuckles from the front tables. Selina stepped aside gracefully, and Gray stepped up to the mic.

’It’s time...’ Gray silently muttered to himself.

He didn’t rush his words. Instead, before beginning, he adjusted his jacket slightly, and looked out at the sea of faces.

He wanted to tell that he wasn’t nervous, even if he was, on the inside.

"Hi," he began simply, and a few guests smiled already at the casual but formal tone of his.

"I know I’m not the face you expected tonight. Definitely not the name on the invite either. But I hope that won’t matter too much."

A few murmured laughs.

"I had the privilege of knowing Conrad through a series of very unexpected events. He’s been a mentor, a force of nature, and, well... one hell of a man. Even in his absence."

He let the silence settle for just a beat before continuing. He also took it as an opportunity to swallow the lump forming in his throat.

"I may not have his years of experience. Or his richness," he added with a small grin, and the crowd chuckled again, "but I’m honored to be standing here in his place. So, on behalf of the Everett family, thank you. For being here. For dressing in your best. For filling this room with your time, your presence, and your stories."

He glanced over to Selina, who gave him the faintest nod.

"I hope tonight surprises you. I hope you meet someone new. And most of all, I hope you enjoy it. Because Conrad didn’t just plan a party."

He paused.

"He planned a show."

And right on cue, the lights shifted.

The ballroom dimmed slowly until only the stage remained lit. Then, in a sudden burst of sound and movement, the stage transformed. Curtains drew back. A spotlight burst open. And from behind the silk partitions, a woman stepped forward in a long red gown that shimmered like fire under the lights.

Gray blinked. Even he was surprised to see the woman. He got the schedule, but there were no names there, so it was also his first time seeing the performers.

"Is that—?" he murmured.

Selina leaned close, her lips barely moving.

"Yes. It is."

The voice that followed was unmistakable.

A global chart-topper. One of the biggest voices of the decade. A woman who could sell out stadiums just by posting a date.

And here she was, in the Sterling Hotel ballroom, singing under the same chandeliers that sparkled above the guests.

The room was still, utterly surprised.

One song melted into the next. Then the lights changed again. Another performance. A jazz quartet featuring an award-winning saxophonist.

Then a ballet performance choreographed exclusively for the night, each movement telling a story without words. Then a modern dance crew. Then a solo violinist whose bow moved like lightning.

It didn’t stop.

Act after act. Each one was more unexpected than the last. Gray could feel it. Every performance had been chosen with care, with layers. Conrad didn’t just throw money at talent.

He curated a narrative. A mood. A spectacle that made everyone in the room feel like they were witnessing something unrepeatable.

And somewhere amid the applause, the gasps, and the breathless silences between songs, Gray found himself swept up in it.

He looked over at Selina, who was watching the stage with a quiet calm, as if none of this surprised her.

"It’s like a private world," Gray whispered.

She glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. "Welcome to it."

Hours passed, but no one checked the time. Drinks were refilled without being noticed. Laughter rose like a tide and fell gently into soft conversation. Every guest became part of the show simply by being there.

And though Gray had no royal blood, no billion-dollar portfolio, no famous last name, no one questioned his place in that room.

Because in that moment, under the golden lights, with Selina beside him and the city far below, he wasn’t just someone filling in for Conrad.

He was Gray Adams.

And tonight, that was more than enough.

After a few hours of performances, the music softened, almost imperceptibly. Suddenly, the stage dimmed. For a moment, the lights focused on a single man in a tuxedo who stepped up to the mic.

The man was tall, older, with a voice like smooth velvet and a presence that commanded the room with no need for introduction.

Gray and Selina were seated by now, side by side at their assigned table near the front. He turned to her, eyebrows raised slightly.

"Now comes the part most of them came for," Selina said under her breath, not looking away from the stage. "Watch."

The man smiled as the room settled. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "thank you once again for joining us at this year’s Everett Gala. We’ve witnessed beauty, art, and music, but now we ask for something else. Something meaningful."

The screen behind him lit up, revealing a photo of Conrad Everett. not in a tuxedo or power suit, but in worn jeans and a denim jacket, crouched next to a small village child, smiling with real warmth.

Gasps stirred quietly across the crowd. Even Gray blinked at it.

The man continued.

"Many of you know Mr. Everett as a businessman. But fewer know the other side of him—the one who, years ago, quietly began funding grassroots efforts in underserved regions around the world. Education. Healthcare. Clean water. Agriculture. This—" he gestured behind him, "is the side of Conrad that tonight is truly for."

The lights shifted again, more images appearing. There were photos of clinics built, children in uniforms, books being handed out, solar panels being installed in dusty hillsides.

"We’re proud to announce that every donation raised tonight will go directly to the Everett Foundation’s latest project: a sustainable learning campus and health initiative in rural South Asia."

A round of applause followed. Real applause.

"And to that end," the man continued, "we invite you now to a curated charity auction—featuring a few select items from Conrad Everett’s personal collection."

The crowd stirred again, this time in anticipation.

Gray leaned in. "He didn’t tell me there was an auction."

Selina just smiled. "He wouldn’t. He wanted genuine reactions. Even yours."

The screen behind the stage lit up again, revealing the first item.

"Lot number one," the man announced. "A vintage Rolex Daytona, custom-engraved. Worn by Mr. Everett himself during his first acquisition trip to Tokyo, circa 1998."

A spotlight hit the glass case being rolled onto the stage. It gleamed like a symbol, both of wealth and of time passed.

The auctioneer began. "Shall we start the bid at fifty thousand dollars?"

Immediately, a paddle went up.

"Fifty-five."

"Sixty."

"Eighty."

"Eighty-five."

The numbers climbed with little hesitation. Within a minute, the watch had been sold to a quiet man in a corner booth for three hundred twenty thousand dollars.

Gray blinked again. "That’s a down payment on a building."

"Don’t worry. For some, it’s just a pocket change," Selina murmured.