The One He Chose
“Before we begin, allow me to honor our distinguished guests — leaders of industry, of politics, of packs. We thank you for your presence, and now, to the voice we have awaited — the keynote speaker, Henry.”
The applause swelled again, louder and eager.
And then the side door opened.
Henry entered.
He wore black — not funereal, not meek, but crisp, the cut of his suit framing him like steel forged for battle. The tie sat neatly in his throat, his hair brushed back, his eyes ready despite the storm within. Evelyn followed at a respectful distance, her presence a steady anchor, while Harold rose instinctively, though he forced himself back down when he realized.
Every camera lens swung towards
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