He smiled.
Shook hands.
Laughed loudly with men worth billions.
Emily obeyed quietly, standing near the dessert table while pretending not to notice her husband avoiding eye contact with her entirely.
Then suddenly, the entire room fell silent.
The Whitmore Corporation’s owner had arrived.
Richard Kensington.
The seventy-two-year-old billionaire telecommunications titan whose approval could build careers—or destroy them overnight.
Richard entered with commanding authority beside his older sister, Eleanor Kensington. Security guards followed several steps behind them.
Daniel nearly tripped rushing over.
“Mr. Kensington,” he said breathlessly. “What an incredible honor.”
Richard shook his hand without warmth.
“I was told you brought your wife tonight.”
Daniel visibly stiffened.
“Yes, sir. She’s… around somewhere. She’s shy. Not used to this world.”
With an irritated gesture, he motioned Emily forward.
She approached slowly, shoulders straight despite the humiliation burning inside her.
“Emily, this is Mr. Kensington,” Daniel said quickly. “Emily is… helping with the event.”
Emily extended her hand politely.
Richard never took it.
Instead, his eyes locked onto the necklace around her throat.
The color drained from his face instantly.
Beside him, Eleanor gasped and covered her mouth with both hands.
Daniel laughed nervously.
“Oh, ignore that old thing,” he said, grabbing Emily’s arm roughly. “I keep telling her not to wear flea-market junk to formal events. Go stand back in the corner, Emily. You’re embarrassing me.”
No one in the ballroom could have imagined the disaster about to explode.
Richard Kensington’s voice thundered through the room.
“Take your hands off her. Now.”
The ballroom went dead silent.
Daniel released Emily immediately.
“Sir, I—”
