Summer’s POV
The Ritz–Carlton’s grand ballroom glittered with New York’s elite as our small group emerged from the private suite. I carefully supported Grandpa George’s arm while Brandon walked alongside Professor Jonathan, their heads bent in quiet conversation.
A hush fell over the crowd as we entered.
I guided Grandpa George to a quieter corner of the ballroom where we could have some peace. Brandon and Professor Jonathan followed, taking seats at our table. As always, Brandon’s presence commanded attention–his aura of power impossible to ignore. With him at our table, we inevitably became the focus of curious glances and whispered speculation.
“Who’s that young woman with George Taylor?”
“Why is Brandon Stark sitting with them?”
I caught snippets of conversation from nearby tables, pretending not to hear, though internally I was torn between amusement and irritation.
“Ignore them,” Grandpa George muttered, patting my hand. “Vultures the lot of them.”
Across the room, Victoria and Alexander entered, champagne flutes clutched in their hands, faces tightening as they absorbed the scene. Victoria’s eyes narrowed as she took in our table arrangement, while Alexander’s gaze bounced between Brandon and me.
Victoria painted on her most radiant smile and glided over, pulling Alexander along like an accessory.
“Grandpa! Professor! You made it!” she exclaimed with performative sweetness. Then, turning to me: “Summer! I’m so happy that
you came!”
Grandpa George and Professor Jonathan merely nodded, their lukewarm response speaking volumes.
Victoria’s attention immediately shifted to Brandon. “Mr. Stark! What an honor to have you at our wedding!”
I tensed involuntarily at her familiarity, my gaze darting between her and Brandon. Victoria continued chattering excitedly, but Brandon maintained a polite but distant expression. He didn’t even acknowledge her–not a word, not even a glance. The complete dismissal was so obvious that Victoria’s smile began to strain at the edges.
Alexander stepped forward, reaching for a nearby bottle of champagne. He poured a glass and offered it to Brandon with a forced smile.
“Uncle Brandon, I’m so glad you could make it to our
wedding,” he said, his voice carrying just a hint of desperation.
Brandon’s lips curled. He finally looked up, meeting Alexander’s eyes with cool detachment.
“Congratulations on your marriage,” he replied, his tone clipped. Then, glancing at the offered drink: “I’ll need to drive later, so I’ll pass on the alcohol. James!”
James materialized instantly at Brandon’s side. “Mr. Stark?”
With nothing more than a subtle nod from Brandon, James reached into his briefcase and produced an elegant envelope. “Mr. Brandon Stark’s wedding gift for Mr. Alexander Stark and Miss Taylor he announced formally.
Alexander took the envelope. “Thank you, Uncle Brandon. That’s very generous.”
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Brandon acknowledged this with the barest tilt of his head.
The dismissal was unmistakable. Alexander’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering to me with barely concealed frustration. I deliberately kept my gaze averted.
As they turned to leave, Victoria paused beside me.
“Summer, it’s my wedding day. Have a drink with your sister?” Her voice was honey–sweet, but I could hear the challenge
underneath.
I looked up, momentarily surprised, then smiled. “Of course.”
I poured a cup of tea and offered it to her. “I’ve been feeling under the weather lately, so I can’t join you in champagne. But they say sisters should share both joy and hardship, so let’s share tea instead I raised my own cup. “To your marriage!”
Victoria’s eyes narrowed slightly as though searching for hidden meaning in my words.
‘Aren’t you going to drink?” I prompted, raising an eyebrow.,
Victoria tipped back the tea in one swift motion. “Thank you, little sister. Don’t worry–you’ve given me your most precious treasure, and I promise to take good care of it. No one will ever take it from me.”
I felt my expression freeze as her meaning sank in. Brandon tensed beside me, a chill emanating from him that even nearby guests seemed to sense.
After a moment of shock, I laughed softly. “Well, make sure you hold onto it tightly–don’t let go!” I sat back down and turned to Grandpa George, effectively ending the conversation. His face was flushed with anger, so I gently patted his hand. “Would you like some tea, Grandpa?”
Grandpa George seemed to come back to himself, noting my smile with evident relief before nodding.
He turned to Victoria. “Victoria, why don’t you and Alexander see to your other guests?”
Once Victoria and Alexander had reluctantly moved on, Grandpa George sighed heavily. “I’m sorry you had to endure that.”
I shook my head, smiling. “What’s there to be sorry about? All my treasures are right here at this table.”
Grandpa George and Professor Jonathan exchanged knowing looks, then turned to Brandon.
“Did you hear that, Brandon?” Grandpa George said with a hint of mischief. “Apparently we’re all Summer’s treasures at this table.”
“Yeah.” Brandon replied, his voice tinged with amusement. His eyes found mine, and for a moment, it felt lik veryone erse in the room disappeared.
I glanced across the ballroom and spotted Ruby and Scarlett seated with our Columbia classmates. They appeared to be fielding questions from our curious former classmates. Ruby caught my eye and gave me a subtle thumbs–up, which made me smile despite
the tension.
I noticed Victoria and Alexander greeting various guests. Victoria seemed to have had quite a few glasses of champagne, her movements increasingly unsteady. I watched as she leaned heavily against Alexander, her body pressed against his side in a way that seemed deliberately provocative. Even from a distance, I could see Alexander’s discomfort as she whispered something in his
ear.
After a moment, Alexander took Victoria’s arm and began guiding her toward the exit. They stopped briefly to speak with my parents. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Victoria seemed to be whispering something to my mother that made Elizabeth nod with determination. Then Alexander led Victoria away, presumably to one of the private rooms.
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Elizabeth watched them go, then straightened her designer dress and headed purposefully toward our table.
She approached with practiced elegance, greeting each person. “Father, Mr. Stark.” Her eyes lingered on Brandon and me, calculating something behind her polite smile. “Summer?”
I rose to my feet without saying a word.
Elizabeth clearly felt constrained by the presence of Grandpa George and Professor Jonathan, but I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she glanced between Brandon and me.
She leaned closer. “Summer, dear, I need to discuss something with you. Would you come with me for a moment?”
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