Page 14 of Broken Blades

I smoothed my dress again and stepped forward into the performance.

Dad moved through the crowd with the ease of a man who'd spent decades working rooms like this. Handshakes flowed seamlessly into introductions, introductions into brief exchanges that somehow conveyed both warmth and authority in under thirty seconds.

I followed in his wake, a satellite in orbit.

"Richard." Dad's voice shifted into that particular register—friendly but commanding. "Good to see you."

A silver-haired man in an obsidian mask turned, hand already extended. They clasped forearms like old warriors.

"Harrington. Hell of an event."

"Always is." Dad's hand found my elbow, drawing me forward. "This is my daughter, Chastity. She'll be stepping into a leadership role next quarter."

I extended my hand. Richard's grip was firm, assessing.

"Impressive credentials," he said, though nothing in his tone suggested he'd actually reviewed them. "Your father speaks highly of you."

"I'm grateful for the opportunity." The words came automatically, rehearsed. Smooth.

Richard's eyes—visible through his mask—flicked between us. Reading something. "Family business," he mused. "There's something to be said for that kind of continuity."

Dad's smile widened a fraction. "We believe in legacy."

We moved on.

A woman in silver—Diane Something, CFO of a venture capital firm. Her handshake was brief, professional, dismissive.

"Charming," she said, already looking past me toward someone more important.

Another investor. Another board member. A consultant whose name I immediately forgot.

Each time, the same script:

This is my daughter.

Leadership role.

Next quarter.

I smiled until my cheeks ached beneath the mask.

Near the bar, Dad steered me toward a cluster of suits. The man at the center wore wire-rimmed glasses beneath his mask, his posture radiating corporate precision.

"James Keller," Dad said. "VP of Operations for Vitality Sphere."

Keller's handshake was measured. "Ms. Harrington. Your father tells me you're passionate about community impact initiatives."

"I am." I kept my voice steady. "I believe corporate responsibility extends beyond profit margins."

"Well said." He gestured toward the room. "Our CEO shares that philosophy. Unfortunately, she couldn't make it tonight—prior engagement—but I'm sure you'll meet soon enough."

Dad's expression remained pleasant. Controlled. But his fingers tightened fractionally on my elbow.

I felt the pressure like a warning I couldn't interpret.

"I look forward to it," I said.

Keller nodded, already turning toward the bar. Dismissed.