I folded my fingers over the heavy cardstock, pressing the gold foil into my palm before Vivian could focus her eyes on the letters.
"Move along," Gable told her, stepping between us to block her view completely.
Vivian huffed, her stilettos stomping against the marble floor as she finally retreated toward the outer hall.
Gable guided me through the oak doors. The noise of the crowded lobby vanished, replaced by the soft hum of classical string music. We bypassed the standard investor tables and headed straight to the front of the ballroom, stopping at a massive, velvet-draped table situated directly below the main stage.
"I will have the chef bring out your son's plate," Gable whispered.
"Thank you," I replied.
I sat down in the high-backed chair and shifted Leo into my lap. His breathing had already evened out, his small chest rising and falling against my arm. I brushed a stray curl from his forehead.
Looking at his peaceful face brought a sharp sting to the back of my throat.
Four years ago, right after I refused to sign his fake five-million-dollar debt, Hayden had slammed a glossy property deed onto the diner table. Eight million dollars. Paid in full. He called his fake bankruptcy a loyalty test, claiming I failed miserably. He expected me to cry. Instead, I just smiled at his pathetic game and walked out, knowing my family's wealth could buy his new neighborhood ten times over.
I reached into my handbag with my free hand, my fingers brushing against a folded piece of paper I kept tucked in the side pocket.
A faded copy of a pregnancy clinic report.
Six weeks after I left that diner, the nausea hit. I spent the next four years raising Leo entirely on my own, shielding him from a man who treated human connection like a cheap transaction.
"Are you actually sitting there?"
The loud, grating voice shattered the quiet of the inner circle.
I kept my hand firmly over Leo's ear and looked up. Hayden marched down the center aisle, a glass of champagne in his hand, his chest puffed out. He had bypassed the velvet ropes again, likely flashing his top-fifty credential at a distracted usher.
"Keep your voice down," I warned, my tone sharp. "He is sleeping."
Hayden stopped on the opposite side of the main table. He looked at the crystal centerpieces, the silver cutlery, and then at me. A loud scoff escaped his lips.
"You really have no shame," Hayden said, leaning over the table. "You sneak into the VIP section, and now you plant yourself at the host family's table? Do you know who sits here?"
"I do," I said.
"Clearly you don't." Hayden tapped his gold watch. "The Sinclair family sits here. The billionaires who are about to hand me a twenty-million-dollar check. Get out of that chair before security drags you out by your hair."
I adjusted Leo's weight, keeping him secure against my chest. "You are very confident about an investment you haven't secured yet."
Hayden laughed. He turned to a passing waiter, gesturing widely with his champagne glass. "Did you hear her? She thinks she understands business. I am ranked forty-eighth on the American Wealth Index. My startup is the fastest-growing tech firm in New York. The Sinclairs don't just want me, they need me."
The waiter offered a polite nod and hurried away.
Hayden turned his attention back to me. "You always overestimate yourself, Daphne. You thought you were too good for me four years ago. Now look at you. A single mother crashing parties just to steal a free meal."
"I am not stealing anything," I said quietly.
"You are a leech," Hayden spat, his voice rising in volume. "You failed my test because you were greedy. You wanted a finished product, not a man building an empire. Well, I built it. I bought Vivian an eight-million-dollar villa in cash the day you left. I proved you wrong."
I stared at his flushed face. He wanted a reaction. He wanted me to scream, to break down, to admit I made a mistake.
I offered him a tight, silent smile instead.
His jaw clenched. "Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?" I asked.
"Like you are somehow above me," Hayden growled, slamming his empty glass onto the table. The crystal rattled loudly. "You are holding a child in a borrowed seat. You are nothing."
Leo whimpered in his sleep, his tiny fists gripping the fabric of my sweater. I rocked him gently, my eyes never leaving Hayden's face.
"You will regret using that word," I said.
"Are you threatening me?" Hayden mocked, crossing his arms. "What are you going to do? Tell the host I was mean to you?"
The grand chandeliers above us suddenly dimmed.
A hush fell over the ballroom as a single spotlight hit the center of the main stage. The event announcer stepped up to the microphone, adjusting his tie.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer's voice echoed through the towering speakers. "Please take your seats. The summit will now begin."
Hayden smirked, pointing a finger at my face. "Time's up, Daphne. Run back to the slums before you embarrass yourself further."
He didn't move toward his assigned seat in the outer hall. He stood right there, planting his feet directly in front of the towering LED screen positioned behind the host table. He wanted a front-row view of my humiliation.
"We are honored to welcome our esteemed guests today," the announcer continued, his voice booming over the quiet crowd. "But first, we must introduce the visionary behind today's summit. Representing the host family, please direct your attention to the screens."
Hayden puffed out his chest, adjusting his suit jacket, ready to applaud the very people he thought would make him a king.
I remained in my seat, holding my son tightly against my chest.
The towering screen behind Hayden flashed bright white, illuminating the back of his tailored suit as the gold Sinclair crest unfurled across the display. The heir's name had not appeared yet.
