REINCARNATED AS A BUSINESS MAN

Chapter 172: THE RED CARPET AT DRAKE 9
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At one corner of the capital of US, there is a well known event centre situated there which is called Drake 9. This event centre is where the Culinary Excellence awards is being held for the first time since the emergence of the ceremony.

Drake 9 was alive with energy, a blend of elegance and anticipation, as it hosted the red carpet to the prestigious Culinary Excellence Awards. Once an ordinary dock, it had been transformed into a magnificent venue that exuded both luxury and grandeur. The harbor’s usual industrial aura had been scrubbed clean, replaced by a scene that felt almost otherworldly.

Massive spotlights mounted on sleek steel rigs illuminated the area, casting long, dramatic shadows on the polished concrete of the dock. A plush crimson carpet stretched from the parking area to the grand entrance of the ceremony, flanked by golden stanchions connected by thick, velvet ropes. The carpet seemed endless, shimmering under the lights as if guiding the elite of the culinary world into the heart of the event.

The air was alive with the hum of chatter, the flash of cameras, and the occasional pop of champagne bottles in the hands of guests already celebrating. On either side of the carpet, elegantly dressed attendees mingled, their formal attire contrasting with the sleek, modern architecture of the dock. A temporary pavilion had been erected near the water, with its walls made entirely of transparent glass, offering a breathtaking view of the Potomac River glittering under the moonlight.

At the center of Drake 9, an enormous archway adorned with gold and silver decorations marked the entrance to the main event hall. Above it, a massive banner read "Culinary Excellence Awards: Honoring the Art of Gastronomy," in bold, elegant lettering. The scent of the nearby river mixed with faint traces of gourmet appetizers wafting from within the hall, teasing the guests’ senses.

Ships docked nearby added a unique charm to the atmosphere. Their sleek designs and faintly glowing lights made them look more like luxury yachts than working vessels, lending a sense of exclusivity to the location. In the background, faint strains of classical music played from hidden speakers, adding a layer of sophistication to the lively scene.

Security was tight but discreet, with well-dressed personnel blending into the crowd as they ensured everything ran smoothly. Waitstaff, dressed in tailored black and white uniforms, moved gracefully through the gathering, offering champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres to the mingling guests.

Hutton, Bob, Ling Fei, Vivian and Kenneth stepped onto the carpet, taking in the splendor of Drake 9 as they were dressed fitting for the occasion. The scene felt surreal, a far cry from the battles and chaos they had recently endured. As they walked forward, flashes from the cameras lit up their faces, momentarily blinding but igniting a sense of purpose in each of them.

"Quite the spectacle," Hutton murmured, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings, ever the strategist.

Ling Fei’s gaze lingered on the shimmering river and the elegant pavilion. "It’s extravagant, but the elegance is undeniable," she remarked, her voice carrying an air of appreciation.

"No doubt it’s just the distraction they need to give us some surprise" Bob commented with a observant look on his face. "Oh calm down Bob, didn’t we send Darlington to handle them? Everything should be fine" Hutton replied with a dismissive tone.

"Well I hope so" But Bob wasn’t convinced as he muttered lowly while still keeping his observant looks.

Vivian, walking just behind Hutton and beside Kenneth, couldn’t hide her awe. "It’s like stepping into another world," she said, her voice filled with wonder.

As they approached the golden archway, the grandeur of Drake 9 seemed to loom larger, a testament to the significance of the evening. But beneath the glamour and luxury, the four couldn’t help but feel the weight of the hidden threats and schemes that lingered just beneath the surface of this dazzling celebration.

The grand celebration of the Culinary Excellence Awards still continued in full swing, with the elegance and energy of Drake 9 masking the undercurrents of tension that threatened to disrupt the night. But just as Hutton, Bob, Ling Fei, Vivian and Kenneth stepped onto the red carpet, their presence didn’t go unnoticed.

At the far end of the venue, within the lavishly adorned main hall, Franklin stood amidst a group of his high-profile acquaintances, an easy smile plastered across his face as he sipped a glass of fine wine. Dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, he radiated an air of authority and charm that masked his true intentions.

Behind him, his daughter Veronica stood silently, her figure draped in a flowing crimson gown that mirrored the color of the carpet outside. Her beauty and grace were undeniable, but her face betrayed a certain unease, her lips pressed into a thin line and her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

Suddenly, a shadowy figure approached Franklin, leaning close to whisper into his ear. The informant’s words were quick and precise, and as Franklin listened, his smirk widened. "They’ve arrived, you say? Excellent," he murmured, setting his glass down on a nearby table.

The informant nodded before slinking away into the crowd. Franklin turned to Veronica, his sharp eyes locking onto her trembling figure. He gestured for her to step forward, and she reluctantly obeyed, her movements hesitant.

"They’re here," Franklin said, his voice low and calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "Hutton Maxwell and his little entourage. It’s time to put our plan into motion."

Veronica’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening as she looked up at her father. "Father, please," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Is this really necessary?"

Franklin’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold, hard expression. "I didn’t raise you to question me, Veronica. If you want to see your mother again, you will do as you’re told. Or should I remind you what’s at stake?"

Her body shivered involuntarily at his words, and tears began to well in her eyes. She fought to keep them from spilling over, but the weight of the situation pressed heavily on her chest.

"Go to him," Franklin continued, his tone unyielding. "Lure him to the location we’ve prepared. Play your part, Veronica, or your mother remains where she is. You understand?"

Veronica’s heart felt like it was breaking, a sharp pain radiating through her chest as she nodded reluctantly. "I... understand," she said, her voice hollow.

"Good," Franklin said, his smile returning as he straightened his jacket. "Now go. Make it convincing."

As Veronica turned to leave, her steps faltered. Her mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions—fear, guilt, and a deep, aching sorrow for what she was being forced to do. But she pushed herself forward, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor as she made her way toward the entrance of the venue, where she knew Hutton would soon be.

Each step felt heavier than the last, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She clenched her fists, whispering to herself, ’Forgive me, Hutton… I have no choice.’

Back in the main hall, Franklin watched her go, his smirk returning as he picked up his glass. He raised it slightly in a silent toast, murmuring to himself, "The lion walks willingly into the trap. Perfect."

"Sean" Not long after, he suddenly called out a name. "Yes My Lord" And in an instant later, a figure suddenly and silently appeared right behind Franklin as he muttered. "Keep an eye on my daughter, make sure she gets the job done" Franklin commanded while leisurely sipping in his glass of wine.

"Consider it done my Lord" Sean replied with a convincing tone before he suddenly vanished from the spot he was in behind Franklin. As for Franklin, he eventually had a small grin on his face as he thought. ’This should get me promoted’

The atmosphere at Drake 9’s red carpet was lively, filled with chatter, laughter, and the dazzling lights of cameras flashing to capture the evening’s finest moments. Hutton, Ling Fei, Bob, Vivian, and Kenneth stood near the edge of the carpet, their group drawing occasional glances from the crowd for their unique composure amidst the celebration. Hutton, in particular, appeared relaxed, though his sharp gaze occasionally swept over the surroundings as if instinctively searching for threats.

Ling Fei leaned slightly toward him, a glass of champagne in hand. "Quite a spectacle, wouldn’t you say? This city truly knows how to host an event."

Hutton gave her a faint smirk. "Spectacle, yes. But nothing is ever as simple as it looks."

Kenneth chuckled, arms crossed over his broad chest. "Paranoia suits you, kid. But for once, maybe just enjoy the moment?"

Hutton was about to respond when a sudden commotion nearby caught his attention. His body stiffened, eyes narrowing as he turned to the source of the disturbance.

A young man, clearly tipsy and unsteady on his feet, was standing over a woman who had fallen to the ground. A broken wine glass lay shattered next to her, red liquid staining the pristine carpet around her and soaking the front of her crimson gown. The woman’s dark hair spilled over her shoulders as she tried to steady herself, and when her face turned toward him, Hutton’s sharp intake of breath was audible.

"Veronica," he murmured, his voice low and laced with disbelief.

The young man who had caused the incident was awkwardly trying to help her up, his face flushed with embarrassment. "I-I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going! Here, let me—"

"Don’t touch me!" Veronica snapped, her voice trembling as she pushed his hand away. Despite her anger, there was an unmistakable vulnerability in her eyes, a crack in her usual composed demeanor.

Hutton’s instincts kicked in. "Stay here," he said curtly to the group before striding toward the scene, his steps deliberate and purposeful.

Bob raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, exchanging a glance with Kenneth. "He’s got that look again," Bob muttered.

"Just let him handle it," Kenneth replied with a shrug, sipping his drink.

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"Show off" Vivian suddenly muttered with a pouted look on her face.

By the time Hutton reached Veronica, the young man had backed away, his hands raised in a gesture of apology before disappearing into the crowd. Veronica was still on the ground, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to gather herself.

Hutton extended a hand toward her. "You all right?" he asked, his voice steady but lacking its usual sharpness.

Veronica looked up at him, her dark eyes widening slightly. For a moment, she seemed frozen, as though the sight of him had stolen her ability to respond. Then, slowly, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his as he helped her to her feet.

"I… I’m fine," she said softly, though her voice wavered.

Hutton’s gaze flicked to the stain on her gown, then back to her face. "You don’t look fine."

"I said I’m fine," she insisted, her tone sharper this time, though the slight quiver in her voice betrayed her. She brushed at the stain on her dress, her movements frantic and unfocused. "It’s just… the wine. Nothing to worry about."

Hutton’s eyes narrowed slightly. There was something off about her. Her usual confidence seemed to have vanished, replaced by a nervous energy that she was failing to hide.

"I thought your family held you captive?" Hutton eventually asked with a doubtful look on his face.

But Veronica looked away, her hands still trembling as they hovered over the stain. "I ran away.... and I wasn’t expecting to run into you," she muttered, her words hurried and almost inaudible.

Before Hutton could press further, Ling Fei’s voice called out from behind him. "Hutton, is everything all right?"

He glanced back briefly, giving her a quick nod. "Everything’s fine." Turning his attention back to Veronica, he added, "We’ll talk later."

"Wait" Veronica suddenly said which made Hutton to take a pause before she continued with a stutter. "Ca....Can I join you guys?"

"Join us?" Hutton asked with a surprised look on his face. But after a moment of silence from her, Hutton eventually sighed "Fine, you can"

Veronica’s lips parted as though she wanted to say something, but she quickly shut them, nodding faintly instead. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

As Hutton walked back to his group with Veronica, his mind churned. There was no way her appearance here was a coincidence, and the nervous energy she radiated wasn’t just from being embarrassed. Something was wrong, and he intended to find out what it was.

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