Chapter 261

Opening day at the VelaCore flagship brought a surge of energy to the Fontaine Galleria. The atrium overflowed with eager shoppers, their curiosity piqued by the futuristic glow spilling from the store's pristine windows.

Inside, beneath the spotlights, Hannah cut a striking figure in her tailored champagne skirt suit. Poised beside the ceremonial ribbon, she ran through the last-minute details with Meagan, her composure unflappable.

"Any word on Mr. Hobbes?" Hannah asked quietly,casting a glance at her watch.

Meagan's fingers flew over her phone, her nerves barely concealed. "Ms. Scott, his assistant says the meeting's still going. They'll do their best to get him here before the ribbon-cutting."

Given the recent media storm, Hannah could easily

imagine Claude being pulled in a dozen directions.She drew a steadying breath and replied, voice calm and assured, "We're moving forward. The ceremony starts on time-Mr. Hobbes or not."

Moments later, applause thundered through the atrium as the ribbon snapped and colorful confetti rained down, officially launching VelaCore's grand opening.

Hannah commanded the room, her presence steady and assured as she laid out the brand's vision to a sea of press and guests.

The event was reaching its peak, with the fitting experience zone buzzing and the crowd swelling.

Then, chaos ripped through the calm. A thick, acrid plume of smoke exploded from a ceiling vent, cutting through the air with the sharp stench of burning.

"Fire!" someone shouted, voice slicing above the music and chatter.

Flames erupted in a sudden burst from a seam

overhead, licking across the panel as smoke rolled down in choking waves. In seconds, the entire space filled with blinding haze.

Panic seized the crowd. They surged toward the exits in a wild stampede, frantic and disoriented-every second increasing the danger of trampling and disaster.

Hannah felt her pulse spike, but she forced down every instinctual tremor. Determination steeled her expression as she took charge. "Meagan! Launch the emergency evacuation protocol-now!"

Her tone sliced clean through the chaos, unwavering and absolute. "Security Team One, move! Use the green exit signs and guide everyone out-keep them moving and stay visible!"

She pivoted, projecting her voice over the din. "Team Two,get a loudspeaker.Direct people to stay low and stay calm. Tell them to use wet towels or sleeves to cover their mouths and noses. Nobody touches the elevators-take only the emergency stairs."

Every instruction rolled out crisp and fast, no room for doubt. Her eyes swept the terrified crowd,sharp and assessing. "All staff-assist whoever's nearest to you. Don't wait.Move."

The force of her authority snapped the staff into action, and the worst of the panic gave way to a shaky but coordinated evacuation.

But just as the crowd began to move-disaster struck again.

A desperate cry pierced the chaos. "Ms. Scott-there's a problem!" A staff member, her cheeks streaked with ash, stumbled over in a breathless panic. "There's a fire by the fitting area-sparks are shooting from the AC vent and spreading through the ducts! And a mother with her baby is trapped in a fitting room. She's unconscious!"

Hannah's pulse slammed. That corner was the most tucked-away section-and now thick, acrid smoke was rolling in fast. To make matters worse, she'd used elegant, heavy drapery there, all of it perfect tinder.

"You keep the evacuation line secure. I'm going in,"Hannah said sharply.

Snatching a half-empty water bottle from the staff member,Hannah doused her sleeve and pressed it to her mouth and nose. Heart pounding, she dropped into a crouch and sprinted straight into the smoke-choked corridor, making for the far corner fitting rooms.

Before long, she noticed the young mother slumped against the wall, clutching a screaming baby.

Smoke clawed at Hannah's throat, and she struggled to breathe. Her voice rasped through the smoke."Come on, you have to move!" She lunged forward,arm outstretched for the woman as she tried to gather the screaming baby against her side.

Suddenly, a violent crash tore through the chaos-chunks of flaming ceiling and twisted metal dlucts slammed to the floor, sealing off the closest exit with a wall of burning debris.

The mother crumpled, sobbing uncontrollably,

"We're trapped-we can't get out!"

Meanwhile, in the VIP lounge of the five-star hotel next to Fontaine Galleria, Vincent leaned back in an armchair upholstered in deep brown leather, his expression unreadable. His long fingers drummed quietly on the armrest as a regional director of a major luxury brand droned on about cross-brand initiatives and market projections.

The room's atmosphere was cool and formal-voices low, every gesture restrained.

Right then, Derek's phone buzzed. Without hesitation, he slipped behind Vincent, leaning in just enough to murmur, his voice nearly swallowed by the ambient noise. "Mr. Jones, urgent news-there's a fire at Fontaine Galleria. It's severe. Firefighters are already on the scene."

Vincent didn't so much as blink. His eyes stayed locked on the director across from him, betraying nothing. He offered the barest nod.

The director pressed on, every word measured and

impeccably smooth.

Soon, Derek's face changed again-a faint flicker of tension, his phone vibrating with a fresh update. He bent close a second time, dropping his tone to a sharp whisper laced with urgency. "The fire broke out on the third floor-right beside Ms. Scott's new store."

That landed like a gunshot. Vincent bolted upright,his composed mask obliterated by a split-second burst of naked panic.

"Meeting adjourned." His voice cut like ice. Without another word, he stormed out, moving with a suddenness that stunned the room.

The business associates present remained rooted in place, whispering anxiously among themselves, none of them quite sure what had just happened.

Derek gave a hasty bow, stammered a brief apoology and darted after Vincent.

When Vincent reached the scene, he was breathing hard,icy sweat prickling his brow.

Firefighters were already locked in battle with the flames.

Vincent spotted Hannah's assistant and demanded,"Tell me-where is Hannah?"

Meagan's lips trembled as she answered, her eyes raw and red, "Ms. Scott... she's still trapped in there."

Staring at the blaze, Vincent felt something seize in his chest-a cold, suffocating fear that rooted him to the spot.