Chapter 18 Almost Sabotaged
“Nonsense!” Damien found his way to the front of the event, his voice slicing through the chatters. Seraphina gasped as she saw him. She had no idea he was here.
Murmurs of wonder spread among the guests.
“Don’t embarrass yourself, stranger.” Julian didn’t stand from his kneeling position on the main stage as he warned his twin brother.
“Stranger?” Damien cackled out loud. “You think you can come out of nowhere and claim what’s mine? You must be psychotic, Julian!”
Julian finally stood, his facial expression unreadable. Seraphina was starting to feel so self-conscious that she wished she hadn’t agreed for this proposal to take place here.
Just then, Julian turned to Seraphina, towering over her as he directed an unexpected question at her.
“Darling, this man here claims you are his. But the last time I checked, I was the one about to propose to you. He seems to be bluffing, isn’t he?”
Seraphina swallowed hard. She didn’t prepare for any of this, but she knew better than to mess this up. It was all for a show, and she was the main character in this story.
The memory of overhearing Damien degrading her with words, how she had put all hopes on him only to realize he had been deceiving her, the baby she lost when her heart broke… all came crashing down on her. Anger she had tried hard to bury flared like heat in her chest.
If she was going to humiliate Damien back, this was the right time. She might never get another chance to do this publicly. So she steeled herself, raised her head high and stepped closer to Julian.
She stopped and touched his collar then looked Damien’s way. “I know some obsessed nonentities would start showing up when they hear that a Moreau’s daughter is back, but I never expected it to be this soon.” She said coolly, almost venomously.
Damien’s eyes popped. Seraphina slowly returned her gaze to Julian, staring into his gray eyes like he was the center of her world. “He’s obviously trying to cause a scene, maybe paid a few cheap dollars to sabotage this special event. We don’t have to spare him attention.”
“What!?” Damien squeaked. The look on Julian’s face was a satisfying one. He hadn’t expected Seraphina to be so bold and cooperative. His lips curved faintly.
“Very well then,” Julian started, making eye contact with some of his men. “Take this nuisance away.”
They yielded in no time, men in suits walking over. They grabbed him while cameras flashed aggressively.
Damien was now thrashing in their holds and screaming as they led him away. “You will regret this!” But no one was taking him seriously. At the entrance door, Seraphina spotted Talia slipping away.
And just before Damien was dragged out of sight, he yelled, “When you come back to your senses, Sera, I have something to tell you! You don’t want to miss it!”
That caught her ears, her chest tightening, but she pretended not to hear.
Julian turned back to the crowd, his calm presence restoring order. “Apologies for the little distraction, ladies and gentlemen. People like him are everywhere these days.”
His calm voice filled the hall again, and the crowd murmured in support, easing the tension. Most of them didn’t recognize the person who had just caused a scene, mostly because of how he presented himself.
But Seraphina’s pulse still raced. She could feel the heat of hundreds of eyes on her, yet all she could think about was Damien’s last words echoing in her mind. ‘When you come back to your senses…’
Julian turned back to her, regaining everyone’s attention. His expression softened, the confident man instantly slipping back into the poised host. “Now,” he said, his voice low enough for her alone. “Where were we before the interruption?”
Gasps and murmurs spread again as he reached for the small velvet box the host had placed safely on the podium. The bright white lights hit the ring, sending tiny sparks across the hall.
Seraphina managed a trembling smile. Her throat felt tight. She wasn’t sure if it was from fear, guilt, or exhaustion—but she had to keep playing her role.
Julian dropped to one knee again, this time without hesitation. His gray eyes locked onto hers, and the crowd fell utterly silent.
“Seraphina Moreau,” he said clearly, “you walked into my life when I least expected it. You challenged me, tested me, and gave me something I thought I would never feel again.”
Her heart thudded painfully. ‘Don’t tremble now, Sera. It’s just a performance. Just breathe.
“I don’t promise you perfection,” Julian continued. “But I promise you my strength, my name, and my loyalty. Will you marry me?”
The hall held its breath.
Seraphina forced herself to smile. “Yes.”
The applause that followed felt deafening. Julian rose and slipped the ring onto her finger, the diamonds glittering under the lights. Cameras flashed wildly; guests clapped and cheered. But Seraphina only got more self-conscious.
Julian leaned close enough for only her to hear, his fresh breath almost drowning her in that spot. “Good girl,” he whispered before turning back to face the crowd.
The words made her shiver. She wasn’t sure if it was admiration, fear, or both.
The orchestra resumed playing, filling the room with elegant music. Guests began to toast. Glasses clinked. The show went on, perfect and grand.
People began to crowd around them almost immediately. Guests congratulated, and reached for pictures. Cameras flashed in Seraphina’s face from every direction. Some women complimented her ring; others praised how stunning she looked.
She forced a polite smile each time someone leaned close for a photo, but inside, her stomach was tightening. The air in the hall suddenly felt too thick. She hated socializing, hated being at the center of attention. And after what just happened with Damien, her nerves were cracking like thin glass.
Julian stood beside her, his expression calm as usual, but he was attentive to details. Without trying hard, he always was. His kind of life demanded that.
He could see the stiffness in her posture and the slight tremor in her hands. Then she excused herself from a pair of guests who were still trying to take another picture and looked away, eyes darting toward the crowd as if searching for escape.
Julian leaned closer and whispered something into the host’s ear. The host gave a quick nod, adjusted his mic, and addressed the guests.
“Ladies and gentlemen, what a beautiful night this has been. We’ll be wrapping up the event for now. Mr. Thorne sends his deepest gratitude to everyone who made it tonight. There will be more to come—trust me, you won’t want to miss the next one.”
A soft murmur ran through the crowd. People started heading toward the exit, some whispering about how grand the event had been. Numerous gifts were presented for the company. Others joked that they hoped to be invited again.
Julian stayed beside Seraphina, guiding her gently through the thinning crowd. But she barely heard what anyone said anymore. Her throat was closing up, and her chest began to feel heavy. Each breath came shorter than the last.
“Are you okay?” Julian asked beside her but answering felt like a chore.
Her vision started to blur. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the edge of a nearby table for balance. Then she turned away, crossing toward a corner near the large curtain, hoping no one would notice, hoping Julian would leave because she didn’t want him to witness her in her most vulnerable state.
The music had faded, but inside her head, there were noises. She hunched forward, trying to pull air into her lungs. Her chest burned. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
No, not here.
She pressed her hand to her throat, struggling to breathe. Her knees wobbled. But before she could hit the floor, Julian’s strong arms caught her like she weighed nothing.
His body shielded her from the few guests still nearby. He bent slightly “Phine. Look at me. Breathe. You hear me? Just breathe.”
Her lashes fluttered, her face pale against the dark fabric of his suit.
“Julian…” she whispered weakly before everything around her started to fade.
He lifted her fully into his arms, his jaw tightening as he turned toward the private exit.