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Author: Vicky Grover
last update2025-05-28 02:47:19

The opulent ballroom that had moments before buzzed with champagne-fueled celebration now felt like a tomb. Crystal chandeliers cast harsh shadows across faces frozen in terror, and the magical decorations seemed to dim as if responding to the oppressive atmosphere that Victor Moon's words had created.

Richard Sterling swayed on his feet, his face ashen as the full weight of his family's situation crashed down on him. His hand clutched at his chest as if he were having a heart attack, while Catherine Sterling stood rigid beside him, her perfectly applied makeup unable to hide the fear etched into her features.

Diana remained frozen near Alexander Cross, who was still bleeding from Marcus's casual humiliation. Her ice-blue eyes darted between Marcus and the Moon family, calculating the implications with the sharp business mind that had built her empire.

If Victor and Sarah Moon are protecting him this fiercely, the thought rippled through the crowd like wildfire, then Marcus Steele must be more powerful than we ever imagined. Maybe even more powerful than the Moons themselves.

The realization hit the supernatural elite like a physical blow. Everyone knew the stories—the whispered rumors of Victor Moon's rise to power, built on the bones of families who had dared to cross him. Entire bloodlines had simply vanished overnight, their assets absorbed, their names erased from supernatural society as if they had never existed.

If Victor wanted the Sterlings and Cross family destroyed, there would be nothing left but empty buildings and faded memories.

The crowd's loyalty shifted like sand in a hurricane.

"Marcus!" A woman in diamonds rushed forward, her voice dripping with sudden desperation. "I never doubted you for a second! Please, remember that I defended you earlier!"

"Mr. Steele, sir!" A man in an expensive tuxedo pushed past others to get closer. "I always knew you were someone special! The way you carried yourself—it was obvious you had noble blood!"

"Those Sterlings were so rude to you!" another guest called out. "Absolutely disgraceful behavior! You showed remarkable restraint!"

The sycophantic chorus grew louder as more guests abandoned any association with their former hosts.

"Diana Sterling is nothing compared to your obvious superiority!"

"The Cross family always were nouveau riche trash anyway!"

"We should have known better than to trust Sterling judgment!"

Marcus watched the pathetic display with detached amusement. He pulled a silk napkin from the buffet table, wiped his hands with deliberate care, then tossed it at Alexander Cross's feet like garbage.

"You're not worth any more of my time," Marcus said quietly.

Alexander flinched as if the napkin were a poisonous snake, his face burning with shame and terror.

The Sterlings exhaled collectively, relief flooding their features. Maybe, just maybe, they could salvage this disaster.

But Victor Moon wasn't finished.

"Ungrateful dogs," Victor's voice cut through the ballroom like a blade forged from winter itself. His eyes fixed on Richard Sterling with the intensity of a predator selecting prey. "Do you have any idea what you've done tonight?"

Richard's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, no words emerging.

"Your family owes everything—everything—to the Steele bloodline," Victor continued, his voice rising with righteous fury. "Without Marcus's grandfather's generosity decades ago, you would all be begging in the streets. And this is how you repay that debt?"

Catherine Sterling tried to speak. "Mr. Moon, we didn't know—"

"You didn't know?" Victor's laugh was like broken glass. "You signed a binding contract! You accepted ten million dollars! And when the time came to honor your word, you chose to humiliate the man who saved your pathetic family!"

The crowd pressed backward, sensing the volcanic rage barely contained beneath Victor's controlled exterior.

"You are dishonorable. You are ungrateful. You are beneath contempt," Victor's words fell like hammer blows. "Consider this your only warning. Cross the Steele family again, and I will personally ensure your bloodline disappears from supernatural society forever."

Diana's face crumbled as the full magnitude of their mistake became clear. If we had known... if we had just known who he really was... The thought tortured her with its cruel simplicity. They could have welcomed Marcus with honor, celebrated the engagement, strengthened their family's position with powerful allies.

Instead, their arrogance had earned them the enmity of New York's most dangerous supernatural family.

He looked so ordinary, Diana thought desperately. How were we supposed to know he commanded this kind of respect? Without the Moons backing him, he'd still be nothing. Just a man in cheap clothes with delusions of grandeur.

But even as she told herself these lies, doubt gnawed at her confidence.

Swallowing her pride like bitter medicine, Diana stepped forward with her most diplomatic smile. "Mr. Moon, please accept my family's sincere apologies for this misunderstanding. Perhaps we could discuss business? I believe Sterling Industries could be valuable partners for your upcoming projects."

Victor's cold stare could have frozen flame. "Your family's business interests are no longer my concern."

Desperation creeping into her voice, Diana turned to Sarah Moon. "Sarah, surely we can work together? The Hudson Valley Development Project—Sterling Industries has the expertise and resources you need. We could make excellent partners."

Sarah looked at Diana as if she were something unpleasant stuck to her shoe. "I'm far too busy with important matters to waste time on failed enterprises."

The rejection hit Diana like a physical slap. Her face flushed crimson as humiliated laughter rippled through the crowd of guests who had once considered her the most powerful woman in the room.

"Did you hear that? Sarah Moon just called Sterling Industries a 'failed enterprise'!"

"The Sterlings are finished! Completely finished!"

"I always knew Diana was overrated!"

But Sarah had already dismissed Diana from her thoughts entirely. With fluid grace that commanded attention from every person in the ballroom, she walked directly toward Marcus. Her midnight-black gown seemed to absorb the light around her, creating an aura of mystery and power that made grown supernatural beings hold their breath.

Sarah Moon was breathtaking—not just beautiful, but radiating the kind of dangerous confidence that came from knowing she could destroy anyone who displeased her. Her dark eyes held intelligence sharp enough to cut diamonds, and her full lips curved in a smile that promised either paradise or damnation.

Marcus felt something stir in his chest as she approached—not fear, but recognition. Here was someone who understood power, who wielded it without apology or hesitation.

She's magnificent, the thought surprised him with its intensity. A true predator disguised as a goddess.

Sarah stopped directly in front of Marcus, so close he could smell her expensive perfume—something exotic that reminded him of midnight gardens and forbidden desires. Her eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made the rest of the ballroom fade into irrelevance.

The crowd held its collective breath, sensing they were witnessing something momentous.

Sarah's voice, when she finally spoke, carried across the silent ballroom like a promise wrapped in velvet.

"Marcus," she said, her dark eyes never leaving his face, "I want you to be my..."

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