Chapter 918:
“No need. If Christina wants to hog the spotlight, let her. Katie’s right—she brought this on herself, and she’ll have to deal with the fallout,” Brendon replied coldly.
Katie’s lips curled into a smug little sneer as she watched Christina and Lorraine. Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction. The two women were about to be humiliated in front of everyone.
If it weren’t for the urgent scramble to raise over five hundred million for the backup painting, Katie never would have sold her cherished evening gown to Lorraine. That dress had been a labor of love, something she’d waited ages to acquire.
But she’d made her peace with it. Now that she could get a custom dress designed by Allison, she could always get another. And once Yolanda became Allison’s protégé, getting a custom gown would be effortless.
Across the room, Dylan noticed the approaching figure in a clown mask. His expression remained neutral, but his gaze sharpened. The mask might hide Christina’s face, but nothing could hide the aura she carried—calm yet magnetic, as though she owned the air around her. It made everything else fade into the background.
As she drew closer, his pulse quickened, and a faint, involuntary smile tugged at his lips. Was she asking him to dance? Thump. Thump. The nerves hit him hard—nerves he had never felt before.
His heartbeat pounded, sharp and wild, as if it might break free from his chest. His hand at his side curled into a loose fist, long fingers flexing. His heart raced solely for Christina.
With every pair of eyes in the room on them, Christina and Lorraine stopped in front of Dylan.
Lorraine was practically vibrating with anxiety, her breaths uneven, her hands aching from how tightly she had clenched them. She knew Dylan’s reputation—he showed no mercy to anyone. Whoever crossed him was sure to pay.
𝖀𝗽𝗅𝗈𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝗋𝗮𝖈𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝗈 𝗀ⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧉𝖼𝗈𝗆
Christina met his deep gaze through the mask, feeling a flicker of nerves herself. She drew in a steadying breath and extended her hand. “Would you do me the honor of a dance, Mr. Scott?”
Not to be outdone, Lorraine quickly thrust her hand forward. “Mr. Scott, would you do me the honor of a dance?”
The ballroom held its breath. The silence was thick enough to hear the faint rustle of dresses as guests shifted in place. Two women, both bold enough to risk public rejection by Dylan. The stakes were high, but so were the potential rewards—wealth and power beyond imagination if they succeeded.
In the corner, Chloe watched with a satisfied smile. This was her doing—a little game to give her brother a push. If he dared turn Christina down, she’d give him a piece of her mind. This was a golden chance, and if he let it slip, there might never be another. Whether Christina would end up as her sister-in-law, that part was entirely up to Dylan now.
Lorraine stood rooted to the spot, awaiting Dylan’s reply, sweat slicking her palms. The pressure of her apprehension was so intense that drawing air into her lungs felt like a struggle.
Moments stretched endlessly while the assembly seemed to hold one united breath, until Dylan’s frigid, detached tone finally shattered the stillness. “Alright.”
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