CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – THE DAY OF THE BANQUET

The air crackled with nervous energy as Kayla scurried through the opulent Storm mansion. Crystal vases overflowed with exotic orchids, freshly laid white tablecloths gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers, and a discreet orchestra tuned their instruments in a corner. It was the day of the Storm family reunion banquet, and as Kayla, the self-proclaimed event manager, she was the conductor of this meticulously orchestrated chaos. Workers bustled around her, a symphony of hammering, arranging, and last-minute adjustments. Kayla weaved through them, her tablet clutched in her hand, her voice a constant stream of instructions. "The canapés go on the side tables, not the coffee tables, Michael! And Sarah, the flower arrangements need to be a touch taller." Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the din. "Kayla." She turned to see Lance approaching, impeccably dressed in a tuxedo, his eyes scanning the room with an air of practiced control. "Everything under control?" he asked, his