The Dazzling Red Event Hall shimmered under the evening sky like a crown in the middle of the city. The glow from its massive chandeliers spilled out through the glass walls, casting golden reflections across the courtyard. Red carpets stretched from the entrance like a river, and the luxury cars arriving one after another only heightened the atmosphere.
Valet attendants dressed in tailored black suits moved swiftly and gracefully, opening doors and bowing slightly as each guest emerged, Every figure stepping out of the polished vehicles was someone of weight business magnates, aristocrats, socialites, and celebrities each one greeted with murmurs of recognition and subtle awe.
As one Rolls-Royce glided away and a Maybach pulled in behind it, the whispers grew louder.
Then, a sleek, brand-new Mercedes AMG purred into position at the entrance.
Its engine hummed low as the door opened, and out stepped James Lorenzo.
At that moment the crowd shifted, heads turned immediately. Conversations paused.
There he was.
Wearing a deep navy-blue tuxedo tailored to perfection, shoes gleaming, and an expression of quiet confidence, James stood tall with a smirk that said he believed the night belonged to him.
Camera flashes began to go off from guests and press alike, a few murmured among themselves, others gestured excitedly as they nudged their companions.
"That's him… James Lorenzo."
"The man of the year."
"The youngest entrepreneur shaking up White Snail City."
At that moment People who had already entered the hall began to drift back outside. Many paused in the garden area of the Dazzling Red Event premises just to catch a glimpse, he wasn't just attending the event he was, for the past year, the talk of it, the man surrounded by mystery, media attention, and rumor.
James adjusted his cufflink and looked around, soaking in the attention like it was sunlight.
He was the rising star.
The man who came from nothing… and was now moments away from being crowned king.
James stood at the top of the red-carpeted stairs, his chin slightly raised, his eyes scanning the luxurious premises of the Dazzling Red Event Hall like he already owned it.
He wasn't a billionaire yet but everyone here knew it was only a matter of time.
A few years from now, they all whispered, James Lorenzo would be worth more than the combined wealth of entire families… families who had been in the game longer than he had even been alive. His name would sit above theirs. His empire would stretch farther. Wider, Deeper.
He was a phenomenon a storm rising from nowhere and everyone wanted to catch just a bit of his momentum. To stand near him. Shake his hand. Exchange cards. Take a picture. Mention him at future meetings.
Tonight, he wasn't just attending, he was the event.
As James casually stepped away from his Mercedes, the crowd around the entrance stirred again. Valets tried to control the line of incoming cars, but eyes were focused on him. Photographers clicked away. News correspondents whispered into their microphones.
Then the second door opened.
Emily stepped out of the car, her gown glittering under the lights, hugging her figure in a way that caught the eyes of men and women alike. Her heels clicked confidently as she made her way toward James, her smile soft and controlled.
James ignored the sea of people approaching him businessmen, young entrepreneurs, socialites. Dozens of outstretched hands, business cards flashing like currency in the dark.
"Mr. Lorenzo, I'd love to have lunch—"
"Just a quick pitch, sir—"
"My father owns the—"
However he didn't respond to any of them.
Instead, he turned to Emily and extended a hand toward her as she approached.
With a calm smile, he pulled her gently to his side and said aloud, "Everyone, this is Emily, My girlfriend."
Immediately the crowd paused.
A few murmurs rose quickly, then subsided under the weight of disappointment, Several single ladies in the crowd subtly dropped their gaze, their hope dimming. Some parents who had quietly fantasized about introducing James to their daughters exchanged awkward glances.
But then… everyone turned their attention to Emily.
If she was the one who caught James Lorenzo, then she had to be something more than she seemed.
They looked at her differently now.
James lifted a hand gently, signaling the sea of eager voices to calm.
"Everyone," he said with a charming smile, "I truly appreciate all the interest, but I won't be able to talk business right now."
At that moment the crowd quieted slightly, tilting in to hear him better.
"I'm a little anxious about tonight's results," he added, letting out a soft, nervous chuckle—just enough vulnerability to humanize him, just enough confidence to maintain the spotlight. "But after the results are out, I'll personally go drinking with everyone who came up to me tonight. I want to talk partnerships, futures… big moves."
Immediately Laughter rippled through the group, and then applause.
His words caused faces to light up. Several people clapped him on the back, others nodded in approval. Some even started whispering to each other about potential collaborations. The moment James spoke, he created gravity pulling them in deeper.
With every step toward the event hall, he was surrounded by supporters, admirers, and opportunists alike.
The crowd slowly escorted him forward, surrounding him like an honorary king. Some called his name with admiration, others praised his journey, his vision, his youthful brilliance.
"Mr. Lorenzo, you're what this city needs!"
"I knew you'd be something, even two years ago!"
"White Snail City's future!"
James beamed, soaking it in. He waved occasionally, nodded modestly, but inside his chest swelled with ambition.
He needed to win tonight's award.
It wasn't just about prestige. It was about leverage.
Winning meant his name would be permanently stamped into elite status. It meant raising his standard so high that even established companies would have to bend to work with him.
After tonight, he thought, anyone who wants a piece of me will pay a price for it. A heavy one.
He'd tax their time. Their respect. Their wallets.
'After all, working with James Lorenzo wouldn't just be business.
It would be a bridge—a possible future with the Victor family itself.'
Winning the award tonight would grant him something no contract ever could.
Direct access. Real status.
A seat at the same table as the most powerful family in South Caden.
The Victors.
The City's Most Uprising Entrepreneur of the Year award had always been a relatively simple affair—hosted annually by the city mayor and meant mostly for public show. In previous years, it was more of a symbolic gesture than an actual stepping stone. A pat on the back, a framed certificate, a handshake, and a few mentions in the local press.
But this year… everything had changed.
The Victor family had officially partnered with the city to co-host the event, elevating it beyond anything the city had ever seen. With the Victor name tied to it, the winner wouldn't just receive applause—they would gain elite access, undisclosed partnerships, and financial privileges most only dreamed of.
It was no longer just an award, It was a golden key to the highest levels of South Caden's power structure.
That was why James had poured everything into preparing for this night. He knew this was his moment.
As he arrived at the grand marble entrance of the Dazzling Red Event Hall, James walked with Emily on his arm, his head held high and his shoulders squared.
He confidently approached the registration checkpoint guarded by two sharply dressed security men in black vests. With a practiced smile, he reached into his inner coat pocket and presented his exclusive invitation card.
One of the guards nodded, took the card, and scanned the barcode on the machine.
They waited.
At that moment James adjusted his cuff, fully expecting the gate to swing open.
But the guard looked up, their brows furrowed.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said. "Your name isn't on the list."
Immediately the words hit like a slap across the plaza, for a moment, the air went completely still.
James blinked. He leaned in. "What did you just say?"
The guard straightened. "Your name, sir. It's not showing on the guest list."
People around the entrance turned their heads. Some gasped. A few onlookers froze where they stood, unsure if they had heard right.
Even Emily looked stunned.
James's face tensed, his smile vanishing. "Do you know who I am?" he asked coldly. "Check again."
His voice almost cracked under the pressure. He nearly said it I'm the winner but something in him held back. He couldn't reveal that. Not yet.
Behind him, the crowd began to murmur. A few guests raised their voices.
"This must be a mistake!"
"Let him in, for heaven's sake!"
"He's James Lorenzo!"
"This is nonsense!"
The guards, now visibly nervous, repeated the scanning process twice, then a third time, but Still… nothing.
"Sir, I'm sorry. Your name isn't in the registry," the second guard said firmly.
At that moment a ripple of frustration moved through the crowd. It was unthinkable. James Lorenzo—the man expected to be crowned the star of the night—was being denied entry?
Tension crackled in the air. Then, from the far end of the hall, a group of men in sleek, gray suits with gold pins on their lapels approached swiftly.
Their were Special security.
One of them leaned into the ear of the head guard, whispered something, then turned to James.
"Apologies for the delay, Mr. Lorenzo," the man said smoothly. "There was a glitch in the registration system. Please, go on in."