Chapter 6 - The Viper's NestAs we glided across the polished marble floor, a sharp, polished voice cut through the air.
"Alexander, darling! You're fashionably late, as always."
A woman in her late fifties, impeccably dressed in a crimson Chanel suit with hair styled into a razor-sharp bob, glided toward us. Her eyes were hard, calculating diamonds behind designer frames. Beatrice Vance—Alexander’s stepmother and the executive vice president of Vance Global.
Behind her stood a tall, slick-haired man in his early thirties—Julian Vance, Alexander’s cousin and primary rival within the company.
Beatrice stopped in front of us, her gaze sweeping over my emerald dress, lingering on the diamond necklace at my throat, and finally landing on Sofi, who was sleeping peacefully against my chest.
Beatrice’s smile was thin and venomous.
"Well," Beatrice purred, her voice dripping with condescension. "I see you finally decided to honor the family gala, Alex. But I must admit... we expected a corporate partner, not a domestic rescue mission. Who on earth is this?"
Julian chuckled, stepping up beside his stepmother. "Really, cousin? Did you pick up a waitress from a diner on your way in? Or did you lose a bet?"
The entire ballroom seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see how Alexander would react to the public humiliation.
I braced myself for the cold brush-off. I expected him to laugh it off, to distance himself, to remind me of our arrangement.
Instead, Alexander stepped forward, placing his arm firmly around my waist, pulling me flush against his side with absolute possessiveness.
"Beatrice, Julian," Alexander’s voice was ice-cold, cutting through the room like a razor blade. "Allow me to introduce the most important person in my life. This is Emily Carter, and her daughter, Sofi."
Beatrice’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "Important? Alex, don't be absurd. You can't possibly—"
"I am entirely serious," Alexander interrupted, his gaze locking onto his stepmother with terrifying intensity. "And as for the necklace she is wearing—my grandmother's emerald-and-diamond heirloom—it rightfully belongs to the woman who holds my heart, not the one who hoards jewelry in a vault."
Gasps echoed around us. Julian’s face flushed a furious, mottled red.
"You're out of your mind, Alex!" Julian snapped, stepping forward. "You're letting a nobody ruin the family legacy for a cheap stunt! What does a broke single mother even know about running a multi-billion-dollar empire?"
Before Alexander could destroy him verbally, I lifted my chin. The fear that had paralyzed me moments ago suddenly evaporated, replaced by a fierce, burning anger. Thirty-six hours of exhaustion, years of apologies, and every insult I had ever endured coalesced into pure strength.
"I may not know corporate hostile takeovers, Julian," I said, my voice clear and steady, carrying across the silent ballroom. "But I know how to survive when the world tries to crush you. And in my experience, the people who inherit empires without ever working a day in their lives are usually the most terrified of someone who actually knows how to fight."
Silence descended upon the ballroom—absolute, ringing silence.
Julian stared at me, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
Beatrice’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure venom.
May you like
And Alexander?
Alexander looked down at me, a slow, breathtaking smile spreading across his face—a look of such fierce, unfiltered pride that my breath caught in my throat.
