Vance Hawthorne

Helena forced a gentle smile, trying to smooth over the sudden chill in the air. "Adrian, Drey is just joking. You know how she likes to tease."

Giselle moved closer to Adrian's side. Her white gown cascaded around her ankles like water, and her long hair fell over her bare shoulders, giving her an air of delicate purity. She looked at Audrey with wide, concerned eyes. "Audrey, are you still upset with Adrian about what happened the other day? If it was because of me, please do not hold it against him."

Sienna let out a sharp, mocking laugh from behind her mother. "Drey, how can you even pretend to be angry with Adrian? As if you have any right to complain."

Adrian did not spare either of them a glance. His attention remained fixed on Audrey, his dark eyes narrowing into cold slits. "Who exactly are you done with?"

Audrey met his gaze without flinching, a faint smirk touching the corner of her lips. "Are you deaf, Adrian? I said I am done with you."

Helena raised her brows, genuine surprise flashing through her features. She had always regarded Audrey as an easy mark who swallowed grievances in silence. Now she realized she had underestimated the girl's nerve.

A surge of fury tightened Adrian's jaw. He closed the distance between them, reached out, and gripped Audrey's arm, yanking her against his chest. "You think you get to call the shots here? Knock it off. It is Grandpa's birthday. Put a smile on your face and come greet him with me."

Without waiting for her reply, Adrian kept his arm wrapped around her waist and steered her forward. He brushed past Giselle without a word, heading straight toward the head table where Alistair Hawthorne sat.

Sienna watched them leave, her foot stomping against the carpet in sheer annoyance. "Giselle, has Adrian lost his mind? Why is he letting her push him around like that?"

Giselle watched the retreating pair. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she turned a sweet, mocking smile on Sienna. "Sienna, do not tell me you have feelings for Adrian too."

Sienna stiffened, caught off guard by the question. Her face turned pink, and her voice dropped to an unsteady whisper. "I... I do not. How could I have feelings for him? He is about to marry my sister."

The words seemed to taste sour in her mouth, thick with suppressed jealousy.

Giselle's warm expression dissolved into frost. She turned her eyes toward the head table, no longer bothering to look at the younger girl. "Let us go, Sienna. Come with me to greet Grandpa."

Five years in another country had changed nothing. Giselle intended to reclaim every single thing that belonged to her, starting with Adrian Hawthorne.

Audrey did not struggle against Adrian's grip as they crossed the ballroom. She had been paid a handsome sum to play the role of the devoted fiancée tonight, and she was professional enough to see the job through until the final curtain fell.

When they reached the center of the hall, Audrey offered Alistair a graceful, composed smile. She presented an elegantly wrapped gift box with both hands. "Happy birthday, Grandpa Hawthorne. I brought you this small gift. I wish you boundless health and lasting joy."

Alistair broke into a broad, genuine smile as he received the package. "Thank you, Drey. Seeing you here is the best gift. Your wedding with Adrian is only a month away now. The two of you should go and register your marriage license soon."

The guests seated nearby exchanged knowing looks. Alistair made no secret of his preference; in his eyes, Audrey was the only acceptable mistress for the next generation of the Hawthorne household.

Panic flared behind Adrian's composed facade. He knew Audrey's temper had reached a breaking point, and he feared she might openly refuse in front of the entire room. He stepped forward quickly to cut off any chance of her speaking. "Grandpa, we plan to get it done in a few days."

Alistair peered over the rim of his glasses, giving his grandson a searching, deliberate stare. "Which day exactly?"

Adrian tightened his grip on Audrey's waist, his knuckles pale beneath the fabric of his sleeve. "I have a business flight to Havenbrook early tomorrow morning, but I will be back the day after. As soon as I land, we will head straight to the registry."

Audrey kept her placid smile fixed in place, though her heart was cold. She knew that she would never set foot in the registry office with him.

Hearing a definite timeline, Alistair's expression softened into visible relief. "Good. Drey, find a seat and get something to eat. I have too many guests to entertain right now, so make yourself at home."

Audrey dipped her chin with polite warmth. Alistair had always treated her with respect and kindness, and she had no intention of embarrassing the old man on his milestone day. "Do not worry about me, Grandpa. Please enjoy your celebration."

Adrian gestured vaguely toward a round table several rows back from the center stage. "You and Helena can sit over there."

Before Audrey could answer, Adrian caught sight of Giselle walking up to greet Alistair. His attention shifted at once. Without another word to Audrey, he turned on his heel and rushed over to join Giselle at the old patriarch's side.

Sienna strolled over with her chin held high, wearing a smug smirk. "Did you see that, Drey? I told you so. Giselle is the only woman Adrian has ever cared about."

Audrey did not even glance at her stepsister. Instead, she turned her cool, amused eyes toward Helena, who had just stepped up beside her daughter. "Helena, when are you going to give Sienna a younger brother? Dad spends every family dinner lamenting the lack of an heir. Have you told him the good news yet?"

Sienna's face burned crimson with indignation. "Audrey, what nonsense are you spewing? When did my mother ever say she was having a son?"

Audrey tilted her head, her voice dripping with calm derision. "You seem obsessed with Adrian treating Giselle like a sister. I assumed you were desperate for a sibling dynamic of your own. Since you want a brother so badly, perhaps Helena will fulfill your wish before Dad loses patience."

Helena's forced smile stiffened into an ugly, rigid line. The failure to bear a son for the Mercer family was the rawest nerve in her life, a perpetual insecurity she tried to bury beneath expensive jewelry and polite social calls. Audrey had just driven a knife into it.

Helena managed a strained, trembling chuckle. "Drey, you always did have a sharp sense of humor."

Before Sienna could throw a tantrum, an older family butler in an immaculate tuxedo walked over and bowed respectfully before Audrey. "Excuse me, Miss Mercer. Mr. Hawthorne requests your presence at the main table."

Audrey was slightly surprised, but she smoothed down her gown and offered a courteous nod. "Thank you. I will follow you."

Sienna clutched Helena's arm, staring in disbelief as Audrey walked toward the most prestigious table in the hall. "Mom, did you see that? Why does she get to sit with the family?"

Helena gripped Sienna's wrist with bruising force, hissing under her breath. "Lower your voice and behave yourself. We are not here to pick petty fights with Audrey. Keep your eye on the real goal."

Sienna swallowed hard, biting back her resentment.

Meanwhile, quiet whispers began rippling through the surrounding tables as prominent business figures chatted over wine.

"Have you heard? Vance Hawthorne is supposed to arrive later tonight."

"Vance Hawthorne? The youngest son? Is he back in the country for good?"

"He has finished reorganizing the conglomerate's overseas branches. There is nothing left to hold him abroad, so of course he is returning."

The men nodded with solemn respect. Everyone in Valenport knew that while Edward Hawthorne managed the domestic front, the true sovereign of the Hawthorne empire was Vance. He was Alistair's youngest, most lethal son—a man who worked from the shadows with ruthless precision.

"I heard he is still unmarried," a woman nearby murmured with an eager gleam in her eyes. "Every eligible heiress in the city will be fighting for his attention before the night is over."

Audrey reached the elevated main table just as Alistair signaled the server to pull out a chair right beside Adrian.

Alistair frowned at his grandson with open disapproval. "Adrian, grow up. Your fiancée belongs here at the family table with you, not shoved off into a corner."

Adrian shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Across the table, Adrian's mother, Victoria, beamed with genuine delight. "Grandpa is right, Drey. Come sit down. I can hardly wait for the day you marry into this family."

Victoria then turned her gaze toward Giselle, who sat on the other side of the centerpiece. "Giselle, you have been overseas for five years, so you might not realize that Audrey and Adrian are getting married next month. The two of you probably ran in the same circles back then, right?"

Giselle's bright smile faltered for a fraction of a second, her fingers tightening on the edge of the linen napkin in her lap. "Yes, Aunt Victoria. Audrey and I attended the same high school."

Adrian noticed the flicker of distress on Giselle's face. An instinctive urge to comfort her took hold, overriding whatever common sense he had left. He picked up his silverware, grabbed a fresh, chilled prawn from the central platter, and peeled it with careful precision.

When the shell was removed, Adrian placed the succulent meat directly onto Giselle's porcelain plate. "Eat up, Giselle. Prawns have always been your favorite."

The quiet warmth at the main table vanished instantly.

Alistair's eyes narrowed into sharp slits, his heavy brows knitting together in silent displeasure. The family patriarch detested public disrespect, especially when aimed at the woman chosen to carry the Hawthorne name. Yet, mindful of the guests watching, Alistair reined in his temper.

Alistair looked across at Adrian and spoke in a deliberate, pointed tone. "Adrian, why don't you peel one for Drey as well?"

Realizing his blunder, Adrian felt a sudden drop in his stomach. He quickly reached for another prawn, stripped the shell away, and leaned over to set it on Audrey's plate.

Audrey did not let him touch her dish. She raised her hand, blocking his movement with cool finality. "Thank you, Grandpa, but I am allergic to seafood."

Audrey locked her eyes onto Adrian's startled face, her gaze devoid of warmth. "Please, give it to Giselle instead. She seems to appreciate your efforts far more than I do."

Adrian's hand froze in midair, caught in an unbearable display of ignorance. They had been together for years, yet he had never bothered to learn that she could not eat shellfish.

Alistair let out a quiet chuckle to break the heavy silence, though he shot Adrian another severe, warning glare. "Vance called a moment ago. He said the downtown traffic is terrible and told us to begin dinner without waiting for him."

Adrian placed the peeled seafood onto his own plate, desperate to shift the focus away from his humiliation. "Grandpa, is Uncle Vance staying in Valenport permanently this time?"

Edward Hawthorne, Adrian's father, managed the day-to-day operations of the domestic empire, presenting the steady, traditional face of the corporation. But everyone in high society knew the true architect of the family's immense power was Vance.

Alistair had recognized his youngest son's brilliance decades ago. Edward was cautious and methodical, perfect for maintaining the status quo, while Vance possessed a cold, calculating mind that crushed competitors without mercy. Five years earlier, Alistair had handed the ultimate authority over the entire Hawthorne conglomerate to Vance before stepping into retirement.

Instead of lingering in the domestic limelight, Vance had flown abroad to expand their global reach, turning the company into a titan. Now, his return meant the true king had come home.

Alistair cast an amused look at his grandson. "What is the matter, Adrian? Are you worried Vance will keep you under a tight leash now that he is back?"

Vance was thirty-three years old—hardly ancient—yet his demeanor was so austere and unyielding that even the older executives trembled in board meetings. When Adrian was seventeen, he had secretly taken Giselle out for a reckless joyride in one of the family's luxury sports cars, nearly causing a fatal accident. Vance had refused to shield him, insisting the boy face formal legal detention until Alistair personally intervened.

Since that day, Adrian felt an instinctive dread whenever his uncle's name was mentioned.

Adrian rubbed the bridge of his nose, forcing a weak laugh. "Of course not. Why would I be afraid of Uncle Vance?"

His forced laughter sounded thin and hollow. As he looked sideways, he caught Audrey staring right at him, her lips curved into an unmistakable smirk of pure amusement.

Irritation flared behind Adrian's eyes. He leaned down, bringing his face close to Audrey's ear, his voice dropping into a harsh, angry whisper. "What is so funny?"

Audrey casually used her fork to lift a delicate morsel of steamed fish, bringing it to her mouth without batting an eye. "Nothing at all. I just think you are amusing."

A deep, gravelly voice resonated from directly behind them, vibrating with effortless authority. "What is so funny? Mind sharing the joke with everyone?"

Audrey's pulse stuttered. A shiver ran down the back of her neck before she could turn around.

A tall, imposing figure stepped into the light of the chandelier, commanding the immediate silence of everyone nearby.

He wore a tailored charcoal gray suit that accentuated his broad shoulders, paired with a crisp black shirt buttoned straight to the collar. His chiseled jaw was set in rigid lines, his dark eyes sharp and penetrating beneath straight brows. His presence alone seemed to drain the oxygen from the surrounding air.

“Dad, sorry I’m late,” Vance Hawthorne said, his sharp eyes and unreadable expression demanding the room's attention.