Chapter 8 - The Gala
By March, the secret could no longer be contained within the quiet sanctuary of Milton.
GreenSphere Solutions had won the prestigious Global Environmental Stewardship Award for our groundbreaking wetland revitalization project along the Savannah River Basin. The annual gala was being held at the grand ballroom of the St. Regis in Atlanta, an event attended by the governor, southern industrial titans, and national media.
I had spent two weeks agonizing over whether Declan should attend.
"Cass," Sam had told me over lunch at the office, "the business world already knows he’s spending four days a week in Atlanta. The rumors are running wild on Wall Street that he’s lost his edge, that he’s having a nervous breakdown, or that he’s quietly buying up Georgia real estate. If you walk into that gala with him, the narrative changes instantly. You take control of the story."
"I don't care about the narrative, Sam. I care about the girls."
"The girls are secure, Cass. They know who their father is now. Maybe it’s time the rest of the world learned too."
The night of the gala, the St. Regis ballroom was a sea of black ties, flowing silk, and glittering diamonds. Flashbulbs went off in blinding bursts as politicians and CEOs walked the red carpet.
I arrived in an emerald-green silk crepe gown with an asymmetrical neckline that hugged my curves and pooled gracefully at the floor. My hair was swept up in an elegant, relaxed chignon, exposing my bare collarbones. Beside me, looking breathtakingly handsome in a bespoke midnight-blue tuxedo, was Declan.
The moment we stepped onto the arrival carpet together, the press line erupted into pandemonium.
"Mr. Hawthorne! Mr. Hawthorne! Is Hawthorne Enterprises partnering with GreenSphere?"
"Declan! Are you and Cassidy Monroe back together?"
"Cassidy! How do you respond to the rumors regarding the Hawthorne trust?"
Declan didn't flinch. In the past, he would have brushed past the press with icy disdain. Instead, he stopped. He placed a warm, firm hand on the small of my back, drawing me close to his side with an effortless, public pride that made my breath catch.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Declan said, his voice commanding and clear, instantly silencing the shouting reporters. "Tonight belongs entirely to Cassidy Monroe and GreenSphere Solutions. Five years ago, I made the catastrophic mistake of underestimating the most brilliant, visionary woman I have ever known. Tonight, I am here simply as her guest, and as the profoundly proud father of her children. Thank you."
Before the stunned journalists could recover from the bombshell, Declan guided me through the grand double doors into the ballroom.
"Did you really just announce that to the national press?" I asked, my heart hammering as heads turned from every corner of the vast room.
Declan leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, his breath warm and steady. "I spent five years letting the world think you were the one who lost everything, Cassidy. It’s about time they realized that I was the idiot who dropped the crown jewels."
Later that evening, after I had delivered my acceptance speech to a standing ovation, I stepped out onto the secluded terrace overlooking the formal gardens to catch my breath. The cool spring air smelled of blooming jasmine and wet stone.
A low, mocking voice came from the shadows near the balustrade.
"Well, well. The runaway peasant finally got her little trophy."
I froze.
Stepping out from beneath the stone archway was Victoria Sterling.
She wore a blood-red designer gown, but the predatory glamour she had once wielded like a blade was distinctly frayed. Her makeup was slightly too heavy, her eyes too bright, fueled by the champagne flute clutched in her manicured hand. The Sterling family had suffered catastrophic financial losses after Declan liquidated their holdings, and the desperation showed in every taut line of her face.
"Victoria," I said calmly, not retreating an inch. "I’m surprised security let you past the velvet ropes."
"I have friends on the board of the botanical society, darling," she sneered, taking a sip of champagne. "I just had to see it for myself. The great Cassidy Monroe, pretending she’s above it all. You used those brats to sink your claws back into his fortune, didn't you? You always were a calculating little mouse."
"Watch your mouth, Victoria."
The voice that cut through the darkness didn't come from me.
Declan stepped out onto the terrace. His expression was not the frantic grief I had seen in my study; it was the terrifying, glacial mask of a predator preparing to strike. He moved with a lethal grace, stepping directly between Victoria and me, his eyes dead and cold.
"Declan," Victoria purred, though her hand shook slightly, spilling a drop of champagne onto her red satin bodice. "You can't honestly be falling for this domestic fairy tale. She hid those children from you! She manipulated you—"
"I gave you one warning when I stripped your family of their shares," Declan interrupted, his voice dropping to a low, terrifying pitch that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "I told you that if you ever came near Cassidy again, I would ruin what little your father has left."
"You wouldn't dare," she hissed, though panic was now flickering behind her false eyelashes. "My father still has allies—"
"Your father’s secondary holding corporation in the Caymans is currently under sealed investigation by the Department of Justice," Declan stated, his voice flat, factual, and utterly devoid of mercy. "I personally delivered the encrypted wire transfers you authorized five years ago to their forensic task force this morning. If you are not off this property in five minutes, Victoria, I will instruct my legal counsel to file criminal fraud charges against you personally for unauthorized interception of telecommunications."
Victoria’s glass shattered on the stone terrace, sparkling shards flying across the pavers. Her face was paper-white, her mouth opening and closing like a dying fish.
"You're a monster, Declan," she gasped.
"To you? Absolutely," Declan said coldly. "Now get out of our sight before I decide five minutes is too generous."
She didn't speak another word. She hitched up her red gown and fled down the terrace stairs into the gardens, the sound of her heels clicking frantic and broken against the stone.
The terrace went quiet again, save for the distant murmur of the orchestra inside.
Declan turned to me, the lethal corporate shark vanishing in an instant, replaced by that anxious, vulnerable man who had built wooden bridges on my playroom floor.
"Are you all right?" he asked softly, his eyes searching my face. "Did she touch you?"
I looked at him—this man who had torn down an entire dynasty just to ensure the woman who had hurt me could never cast a shadow over our lives again.
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"I’m fine, Declan," I said, a soft smile breaking across my face. "Actually... I’ve never been better."
He let out a long, ragged exhale of relief, stepping closer until his chest was inches from mine. "Let's go home, Cassidy. The girls made me promise to read the caterpillar book before they go to sleep, and it’s already past eight."
