Chapter 13

Chapter 13
While Stella was getting her makeup done, John arrived with a new suit for Laim.

“Custom order, just like you asked.” He handed it over with his brows raised. “I thought you weren’t going to attend, though.”

“Changed my mind,” Liam said, taking the hanger. “I’ll go upstairs to change.”

He was ready quickly- the tailored dark navy blue suit that matched Stella’s dress, his gem-encrusted cufflinks glinted under the boutique lights. But Stella was still inside.

When she finally stepped out of the dressing room, Liam looked up and froze.

Behind her, Lela beamed. “I present to you, the beautiful Stella,” she tapped Stella’s shoulder.

“What’s your last name again?”

Stella paused. “Moore. Stella Moore.”

Lela cleared her throat and started over. “I present to you the beautiful Stella Moore.”

“Wow. You are gorgeous.” John stood up, stunned. “No wonder you were particular about the color.”

Liam stood up too and immediately kicked him in the shin. “Thanks for delivering the clothes, your work for today is done. Goodnight.”

John winced. “Are you chasing me away?”

“Yes,” Liam said flatly. “Never mind, we’re leaving anyway. You can stay.”

And with that, he placed his hand lightly on Stella’s back and led her out of the building.

“Don’t forget to drop by often,” Lela called after them, waving. “I have so many dresses I want you to try.”

They rode in silence to the venue. 

Liam wanted to speak multiple times, but didn’t know what to say. He had already made things awkward once today. His fingers still burned from when he placed his hand on her back, though there was a layer of cloth between them, it felt like he touched fire.

Through the window, Stella watched the skyline blur by.

The car started to slow down as they approached a gate, the entrance to one of the largest luxury hotels under the Kings Corporation. 

Her parents had once brought her here for a partner banquet when she was younger. It was also where she had stayed for a few days upon returning from Germany, before moving to her apartment.

The car rolled through the gold-lined gates and stopped right in front of the gleaming white event hall. A red carpet stretched from the entrance all the way to the car door.

Liam stepped out first, turned around, and offered his hand

Stella hesitated, then slowly placed her hand in his. Cameras started flashing the moment she stepped out. The press surged forward, but were kept away by security.

She took a deep breath. Beside Liam, she walked steadily down the carpet and into the building. 

Inside was a ballroom that looked like a page out of a Victorian-era book. Large, ornate chandeliers sparkled above like stars, beautiful floral patterns on the wall, and a beautiful painting on the arched ceiling. Soft classical music played in the background, and the air hummed with polite conversation and clinking of glasses. Around the room, uniformed waiters were weaving around with trays of wine glasses and pastries.

They had just stepped into the room when Liam was immediately surrounded. Investors, partners, and directors were introducing themselves and raising their wine glasses, all eager to curry favour with the new heir.

Stella stepped back a little, watching the scene.

She recognized many faces. CEOs, political figures, hedge fund managers, and celebrities. People she had only ever seen on TV screens and in newspapers or magazines.

Then, her breath caught. 

Across the room, she saw someone familiar. 

Uncle Paul. 

He was older now, his head mostly bald with more grey hair than black, but she’d never forget him. Every time he visited, he would always bring sweets and toys for her and raise her over his shoulder to the sky as a little airplane.

He had been her father’s most trusted employee. The head accountant of her parents’ company. From her investigation, she discovered, Uncle Paul had resigned one month before the tragedy. She didn’t know if he had anything to do with their deaths, but he was one of her suspects. While she was in Germany, she had tracked him to a small town in Australia, then lost the trail. 

But now he was here.

He had come back. 

But why?

“Stella.”

A familiar voice snapped her back to the present.

“Stella.” 

She blinked and turned to Liam, who was suddenly at her side.

“Is it too much for you to handle?” he asked, a little concerned.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. My mind wandered off. What were you saying?”

“Is that him?”

“Yes, he’s Liam Carson.”

“Wow, I had no idea. We went to school together back in England. I would never have imagined he was the Carson family heir. I would have tried my luck.”

“Well, it’s too late now. He had someone by his side.”

“She could just be his date. It doesn’t mean they are dating.”

“Come on, they’re dressed in matching clothes. It could only mean one thing.”

Across the room, Vivian watched them, eyes dripping with venom. Stella was wearing a Lela Long dress, and it was one that was said to never be on sale. Something  Vivian herself had never been able to get her hands on, no matter how many strings her father pulled.

It could only have come from Liam. 

Her gaze grew darker. 

Why must Stella always take the things she wanted?

She, Vivian Stone, was supposed to be the one standing beside Liam. The one wearing Lela Long. The one all the other women looked at jealously. She was the future fiancée chosen by the old chairman himself. 

But because of Stella, she had gotten fired and was led out by security. All of the upper class were laughing at her. Even her father had scolded her, but he had never scolded her before. 

She gritted her teeth.

“I’ll show her,” she muttered.

Nearby, two men stood with drinks in hand, whispering while eyeing Stella.

“That lady,” one said, “is exactly my type.”

“Do you want to die?” the other ones hissed. “That’s the Carson heir’s person.”

“I know, but what if she’s open to a relationship. A woman of her background, no matter how stunning, would never be accepted into the Carson family. If she’s smart, she would know how to choose.”

“Like what? Your mistress?”

“Why not? People like them usually have fiancées from equally powerful families. Do you think they would let their future partners keep someone around for long? Think about it, a plaything for a month or so? Or a long-term mistress.”

“What if she’s from a powerful family?”

Vivian, eavesdropping just steps away, smiled smugly, a plan forming in her head.

She didn’t know their names, but she recognized both of them. They seemed to be some kind of software startup company. They had both been kissing up to her father earlier, trying to secure funding and connections.

She scoffed. Picked up a wine glass from a passing waiter and strode up to them, her voice tinted with mirth.

“She isn’t from a powerful family.”

Both men turned to her, startled.

“Miss Stone,” they both greeted with respect.

“She’s no one,” Vivian added. “Just a secretary, who wants more than she deserves.”