Stepping into the Spotlight
I take a deep breath as I step through the ballroom doors. The air is thick with expectation, the glittering lights casting shadows on the faces of Manhattan’s elite. It feels like a spotlight has ignited above me, a weight I can almost taste.
The room goes silent, three hundred pairs of eyes now trained on me. I catch Julian’s gaze—his eyes widen, flaring with disbelief as he processes my unexpected arrival. His confident smirk falls away, replaced by a mixture of shock and anger. He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected me.
Gabriel Lancaster stands beside me, tall and imposing with an air of protective calm. His presence feels like a sturdy anchor against the tide of whispered gossip sweeping through the crowd. I can hear snippets of hushed conversations.
“Is that Julian’s ex-wife?”
“What’s she doing here?”
It’s exhilarating, and terrifying, knowing all eyes are on me. But I feel a spark of defiance ignite within as I straighten my spine and let my hand rest against the soft fabric of my gown, right over the curve of my stomach. This is my moment.
And in that moment, I see it—a flash of jealousy flickers across Dalia’s immaculate features. She clings to Julian’s arm, a trophy of victory, yet I can sense her uncertainty. It sends a thrill through me.
Before the Storm
Julian strides toward me, anger radiating off him like heat from a flame. “What the hell are you doing here, Khloe?” His voice carries, sharp enough to cut through the tension surrounding us.
I meet his gaze steadily. “I could ask you the same thing. But unlike you, I’m not hiding behind a façade.”
His expression tightens, disbelief morphing into a desperate grasp for control. “You think you can just waltz in here and—what? Ruin my night?”
I can feel Gabriel shift slightly beside me, his hand subtly brushing against my back, a reminder of his unwavering presence. “This isn’t about you, Julian. It’s about me and my life now. And this baby—” I pause, taking in a steadying breath, “is part of that life.”
Julian’s brows draw together, confusion creeping into his features. “That’s just a ploy, isn’t it? Who’s the father? Some random guy?”
“No,” I assert, my voice rising slightly. “Gabriel isn’t just a sponsor. He’s someone who truly values me, respects me. Something you never did.”
His jaw clenches, and I can see the rage bubbling just beneath the surface. “You think you can just play the sympathy card? That you can show up with his baby and make me look like the bad guy?”
The crowd holds its breath, eagerly awaiting the next explosion. I swallow hard and step closer, my heart racing. “Just so you know, this baby is due on the same day as your wedding to Dalia.”
A shocked silence envelops the room. Dalia’s face drains of color, her confidence cracking. Julian’s expression shifts from anger to panic, a realization dawning in his eyes that he never wanted to confront.