The VIP terrace was a masterclass in exclusivity. While the main ballroom inside the Kennedy Center was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with hundreds of desperate social climbers, the terrace held no more than twenty people. They were the true architects of American policy—cabinet secretaries, four-star generals, and the billionaires who funded their campaigns.
But the center of gravity on the terrace was undeniably Senator Margaret Hale.
She stood near the stone balustrade overlooking the dark waters of the Potomac River. She was in her mid-fifties, but she possessed a timeless, terrifying elegance that made her age irrelevant. She wore a tailored, deep-emerald evening gown that was conservative enough for a politician but cut with a precision that highlighted a surprisingly athletic, commanding figure. Her silver hair was styled impeccably, framing a face that was sharp, aristocratic, and completely devoid of warmth.
