Chapter 46
The tension in the room lingered like smoke, thick, suffocating, until a bright, almost forced voice cut through it.
“Exactly. Hey, who’s Seren learning piano from lately? My kid’s starting lessons too p>
The shift was instant. Like a switch had been flipped. The cruelty dissolved into polite society chatter. Smiles reappeared. Shoulders relaxed. Wine glasses lifted again.
Elara caught it immediately, the opportunity. Her lips curved, victorious.
“Of course,” she said smoothly, brushing an imaginary speck from Seren’s dress. “Let’s exchange contacts later. I’ll introduce the teacher to you p>
“Oh, that would be great,” the woman replied eagerly. “Me too,” another chimed in. “And me p>
Within seconds, a small circle formed around Elara and Seren. Compliments flowed. Praise followed. Seren’s competition win became the centerpiece of conversation.
The earlier insults? Forgotten. Buried beneath networking smiles and social climbing instincts.
Elara glowed under the attention. She had done it.
She had taken the narrative, twisted it, and redirected it, using her child as the banner of respectability. Using motherhood as armor. Using achievement as currency.
And most of all. Using it to win over people who once stood beside Amara. Across the room, Amara watched quietly. She understood what was happening. This wasn’t about piano lessons. It wasn’t about children.
It was her strategy think she was staking territory and claiming relevance.
Building alliances with the very women who used to laugh beside Amara in lecture halls and sit with her at charity luncheons.
Julian leaned closer. “Don’t pay attention to her,” he murmured. Amara gave a small, knowing smile. “I won’t.” Her voice didn’t tremble.
Because the truth was, people who could be swayed by a piano teacher’s contact were never truly hers to lose. Elara’s laughter rang out again, louder now, triumphant. But triumph built on insecurity always sounds just a little too sharp. The insecurity was screaming.
The noise of the ballroom softened as Amara guided Julian a few steps away from the crowd. The laughter behind them blurred into distant echoes, replaced by the quiet tension humming between them.
“Do you like kids?” Amara asked suddenly. Her voice was calm, but too calm. The kind of calm that hides something fragile beneath it.
Julian didn’t hesitate. “I do.” Her fingers tightened slightly around her clutch.
“But,” he continued gently, leaning closer so only she could hear, “compared to kids, I like you more.” His gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t have a fortune to inherit. No dynasty depends on me. So don’t ever feel pressure about it p>
The words weren’t dramatic. They weren’t loud. They were steady and intentional.
Amara felt something in her chest loosen, something she hadn’t even realized had been coiled so tightly.
Before she could respond, “Amara, you’re not complete if you can’t have kids p>
The voice was sharp enough to cut silk. Elara. She had followed them.
Seb was right behind her, his hand gripping her wrist lightly, his jaw tight. “Elara, stop—” But she pulled away.
“Julian will get tired of you sooner or later,” she continued, stepping closer, her smile thin and poisonous. “Men always want heirs. Legacy. What can you give him p>
The air around them shifted again. Conversations slowed. Eyes turned. Julian’s expression darkened instantly. But Amara moved first.
She stepped forward, placing herself slightly in front of Julian, not hiding behind him. Not shrinking. Her composure was no longer soft.
It was lethal. “Don’t test me,” Amara said quietly. Not loud, not hysterical, but quiet.
And that made it worse. “Or you’ll wish you hadn’t p>
The warning hung between them like the calm before a storm. For the first time that evening, Elara’s confidence faltered. There was something in Amara’s eyes now, something unshakable. Not hurt. Not insecurity. Resolve.
Seb swallowed, tension etched across his face. He knew that look. He had seen it once before, right before she walked out of his life and took everything he underestimated with her.
Julian stepped beside her again, his presence firm and unwavering. Elara opened her mouth as if to continue, but no words came.
Because suddenly, the woman she had tried so desperately to provoke didn’t look incomplete at all. She looked untouchable.
“What? Are you going to hit me? In front of everyone?” Elara’s voice was high and shrill, her eyes darting to the nearby reporters and classmates. “I’m just looking out for you! Don’t be mad p>
She was trying to play the victim, but Amara didn’t give her the chance. Before Elara could blink, Amara stepped forward and landed a fatal slap, the force of it sending Elara stumbling back.
The crowd gasped in collective shock. Then another, the sound of the slap cracked through the ballroom like a gunshot. The music seemed to die instantly as Elara’s head snapped to the side, her hand flying to her stinging cheek.
“I have been nice to you! How dare you hit me!” Elara cried, her eyes filling with tears that no longer moved anyone in the room.
“Just watch me,” Amara whispered, her voice low and terrifyingly calm.
“Don’t touch my mummy!” Seren suddenly screamed, lunging forward with a burst of childish fury. She shoved Amara with all her weight, catching her off guard and sending her to the floor.
Jullian was there in a heartbeat, his face a mask of cold rage. He knelt beside Amara, his hands steady as he helped her up. “Are you okay? Does it hurt p>
Amara shook her head, her eyes fixed on the family across from her.
Jullian stood up, stepping in front of Amara like a wall of iron. “How dare you mess with my fiancée!” he yelled, his voice booming through the silent hall.
Seren shrieked and scrambled backward, hiding behind Seb’s legs. “Amara’s a wicked woman! She hit my mommy p>
“Your mom deserved it,” Jullian spat, his gaze cutting through Elara like a blade. “Because she didn’t raise her kid right. She raised a liar to protect a snake p>
“You! Are you crazy?” Seb stepped forward now, his face flushed with a mixture of doubt and Jullian standing tall beside Amara, a misplaced need to protect the child he thought was his. “It was Amara who started it! I warn you, Mr. Vale, if you yell at my daughter again, I won’t go easy on you p>
Amara let out a sharp, sudden laugh that sliced through the tension. It was a sound of pure, bitter amusement. She looked at Seb, the man who had no idea that Seren was not his child.
Julian had given her the report last night and saw him still standing there, shielding the woman who had lied to him.
“You won’t go easy on him, Seb?” Amara asked, her voice trembling with the weight of the irony. “You’re still doing it. Even after everything, you’re still standing on the wrong side of the line p>
Seb looked at her, his eyes flickering with the edge to fight for her, but the pressure of the crowd and his daughter’s crying made him falter. He was a man caught between the love of his life and his legacy, and in his hesitation, he looked smaller than he ever had before.
“Oh, Seb, you really are a blind and clueless fool. Seren isn’t your biological daughter.” Amara said, bringing out a report from her bag and shoving it in Seb’s face.