Chapter 31 The Charity Gala
The ballroom of Martin Manor glittered with the light of a thousand crystal chandeliers, bringing the oil paintings on the domed ceiling to life.
Tulips filled the hall, their sweet fragrance mingling with the rich aroma of champagne, while a melodious waltz echoed between the ornate columns.
Mason Martin's eightieth birthday charity gala was unquestionably the social event of the year in Emerald City.
Men in bespoke suits clinked glasses and exchanged pleasantries, while women in designer gowns swept across Persian rugs, each step like walking on starlight.
Since Elodie was related to the Martin family, Emily, as the younger generation, naturally had to offer birthday wishes to Mason first.
After exchanging a few polite words, Elodie noticed Emily's pallor and led her to the ballroom to rest.
Holding Emily's arm, Elodie frowned with concern. "You still look terrible. You should be in the hospital resting. It's just a piece of jewelry. I could have someone photograph it and bring it to you."
Emily shook her head gently, her gaze fixed on the glass display case at the far end of the exhibition area.
The pigeon-blood ruby brooch lay on a velvet cushion—a diamond-encrusted treasure with a perfectly cut ruby at its center, glowing with warm radiance under the lights.
It had belonged to her mother. The Johnson family had secretly pawned it years ago when they needed capital, and Emily had spent six long years tracking it down.
This was one of the main reasons she had to return to Emerald City.
"No, I need to see it myself," she said softly.
Emily wore an ivory mermaid gown that accentuated her slender waist, with a backless design that highlighted her elegant shoulder blades.
Her face, adorned with subtle makeup, glowed like a pearl under the crystal lights. Though she hadn't dressed to stand out, she was like a night-blooming cereus, instantly capturing every eye in the room.
"That must be the woman from those rumors about Mr. Windsor."
"She's a thousand times more beautiful than Clara."
"If I were Mr. Windsor, I'd choose her too!"
"Indeed, she's stunning."
Whispers spread through the crowd as numerous male guests fixed their gazes on Emily, some forgetting to swirl the champagne in their glasses.
Elodie was about to speak up against those indiscreet stares when Wesley's voice came from behind them. "Emily, Elodie, you made it at last."
Wesley approached in a silver-gray suit with ruby cufflinks, smiling, "Let me introduce you to this lady beside me, the internationally renowned fashion designer, Jane."
"Jane?" A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
They had only known from the news that Emily was the daughter of the Johnson family, suspected of stealing her sister's boyfriend.
But no one expected that the mysterious designer Jane, who created the stunning "Aurora Collection" that shocked the fashion world and never appeared in public, was actually Emily.
The ladies immediately surrounded Emily.
"Jane, I'm attending Paris Fashion Week next month. Would you design a gown for me?"
"My daughter-in-law is pregnant. Could you create a maternity dress for her?"
As Emily was politely responding, she felt a predatory gaze from behind.
Terry Perez sauntered over with a glass in hand, his eyes lingering on her exposed back. "Jane, you're truly talented and beautiful. May I have the honor of a dance?"
Before he finished speaking, a figure appeared between them.
Charles had materialized beside Emily, his left arm casually resting against the Roman column behind her, effectively creating a barrier between her and the rest of the room.
"Mr. Perez, the auction is about to begin. Shouldn't you be examining the items?" Charles tapped his champagne glass lightly, his tone casual but unmistakably threatening.
Terry's smile froze. Even he could recognize that Charles was staking his claim.
With an awkward laugh, he slunk away. Several other hopeful gentlemen took note and respectfully redirected their attention.
Emily turned to glare at him. "What exactly are you doing, Mr. Windsor?"
"Saving you the trouble of dealing with irrelevant people," Charles replied, his gaze falling on her fluttering eyelashes. His voice dropped lower as his fingertips accidentally brushed against her bare back, causing both of them to momentarily freeze at the contact.
Emily quickly stepped back, her cheeks flushing. "Your assistance isn't necessary, Mr. Windsor."
Charles observed her reddening ears with amusement, seemingly having forgotten their tense parting that morning. "I'm afraid it is. You may not acknowledge me as your savior, Ms. Johnson, but I must take responsibility for you."
Emily shot Charles a warning glance. How could he make such suggestive comments? What responsibility was he talking about?
Charles appeared oblivious to her warning look. As he spoke, his gaze swept the room, carrying an unspoken threat.
The atmosphere in the ballroom seemed to freeze for a moment as everyone understood the message: Jane was under Charles's protection.
Watching from the side, Elodie nudged Wesley's arm. "Look at Charles—his possessiveness is practically overflowing."
Wesley took a sip of champagne, his eyes resting on Emily's tense profile with an amused smile. "Elodie, want to see some drama?"
"What are you planning?"
"Just trying to raise more money for the children in need."
From the exhibition area came the auctioneer's voice, and Emily immediately perked up.
Charles noticed the light in her eyes as she looked toward the ruby brooch, his expression thoughtful.
'She likes that brooch?'
The auctioneer struck his gavel, announcing the first item—a landscape painting with a starting bid of $500,000.
Emily stood in the back row with her champagne, her eyes briefly scanning the painting while her fingers absently traced the rim of her glass.
The painting showed decent technique, but it wasn't her target, so it failed to capture her interest.
Several more items were auctioned, but the ruby brooch had yet to appear.
During the intermission, Charles headed toward the restroom. At the corridor's corner, Wesley and Elodie's conversation drifted to his ears.
"I'll bid on that ruby brooch for Emily. She'll love it—I haven't given her a proper homecoming gift yet," Wesley said with a light laugh.
Charles stopped abruptly, his brow furrowing.
Leaning against a column, he watched as Wesley turned to leave and finally called out, "Wesley."
Wesley looked back, raising an eyebrow when he saw Charles. "Taking a breather, Mr. Windsor?"
"Stay away from Emily. Her gifts are not your concern."
Wesley's smile turned playful. "Are you jealous? It's just a gift for a friend. You're overstepping, Mr. Windsor."