Tell the World, The Hidden Magnate is Back

CH 11

The guards moved closer with professional efficiency.

Lily's heart hammered against her ribs hard enough to hurt. She had no pass, no invitation, no explanation for why she was here except that Ethan had gestured her into his car and she'd innocently followed.

She tugged at Ethan's sleeve. "We should go."

He didn't move. Didn't even look at her. Just stood there perfectly calm and still, like he was waiting for something.

The lead guard stopped in front of them. "Sir. Ma'am. I need to see your passes."

Lily's throat closed. Former business partners were staring at her now—people she'd begged for investments, people who'd deleted her number after the bankruptcy. All of them watching her about to be thrown out like garbage.

She tugged at Ethan's sleeve again, harder this time. "Ethan, we should really go now."

He remained perfectly still.

"Sir." The guard's voice sharpened into authority. "Your passes. Now."

Ethan looked at him with calm, dark eyes. "We don't have passes."

Triumph blazed across Vivian's face like wildfire.

"Then I'm afraid you'll have to—"

"We don't have passes," Ethan continued in that same level tone, "because I don't need a piece of paper to prove who I am."

Silence.

Then someone laughed. Then another. Then the entire hall erupted into laughter that bounced off marble and crystal and made the chandeliers seem to shake.

The guard's face flushed red. "Are you—are you actually serious right now?"

"Completely."

"What's next?" The guard played to the crowd now, feeding off their amusement. "Should I call the hosts down here to personally escort you inside? Have one of the sponsors hand you the ceremonial mallet? Roll out a red carpet? Hire a brass band?" He gestured wildly as people doubled over laughing. "Would that be worthy enough for someone as distinguished as you?"

The crowd roared. Someone's champagne sloshed onto the floor.

Vivian's laugh carried above everything—bright, cruel, victorious.

Ethan waited for the noise to die into expectant silence.

Then he said, quietly: "Yes. Do exactly that.”

The guard's laughter died in his throat.

His face twisted from amusement to rage in the span of a heartbeat, and suddenly he wasn't playing to the crowd anymore—he was a man whose authority had been challenged in front of two hundred witnesses.

"You're unbelievable." The words came out through clenched teeth. "Actually unbelievable. If you're crazy, go get treatment somewhere. Stop embarrassing yourself here." He raised his baton, and the crowd's laughter turned to gasps. "Get. Lost."

The baton came down fast.

Lily flinched backward, arms coming up instinctively—

—and froze.

A hand had caught the baton mid-swing. Not Ethan's hand. Someone else's.

The guard's eyes went wide as he looked up at the man now holding his weapon like it weighed nothing at all.

Marcus. Silver hair. Expensive suit. The kind of presence that made rooms rearrange themselves around him.

"So this is what we pay you for?" Marcus's voice was quiet, but it carried like thunder. "All that money we pour in every year, and this is how you represent us?"

The guard's face drained of color. "Mr. Marcus, I was just—I didn't know—"

"Didn't know what?" Marcus yanked the baton away and tossed it aside. It clattered across marble like a gunshot. "That you should treat people with basic respect? That violence isn't part of your job description? Your job is done here!"

"Sir, please, I have a family—"

"Should've thought of that before you raised a weapon at a guest." Marcus turned away, dismissing him with the gesture. "Security will escort you out. We'll mail your final check."

Two other guards materialized and led the trembling man away. The crowd watched in stunned silence as he disappeared through the doors, his protests fading into nothing.

Marcus turned to Ethan and inclined his head slightly. "This way, sir."

The hall erupted in whispers.

Lily's mind couldn't process it. Couldn't understand why a sponsor would personally intervene, why he'd bow to Ethan, why—

Vivian pushed through the crowd, her smile forced and brittle at the edges. "Mr. Marcus, I think there's been some confusion." She gestured at Ethan like he was evidence in a trial. "This is my ex-husband. He's just a—he lived off me for three years. He has nothing. Why would someone of your position personally come out to receive him?"

Marcus's expression went cold. "Your information seems outdated, Mrs. Cross."

"Outdated?" Vivian's voice rose slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Starting tonight, every bell-ringing ceremony will feature an honorary guest of public welfare." Marcus's voice carried across the silent hall. "Someone who gives back to the taxpayers supporting these enterprises. A reminder that success comes with responsibility."

He gestured toward Ethan. "And tonight's honorary guest is Mr. Cross."

The crowd murmured in surprise, then quickly raised their champagne glasses in agreement. Voices overlapped in praise of the socially responsible decision, the forward-thinking initiative, the brilliant move.

Lily stood there feeling like the floor had tilted sideways. Honorary guest. Public welfare. Mr. Cross.

Who was this man she'd been living with for two days?

Vivian's champagne glass trembled in her hand. "But I'm supposed to ring the bell tonight. This is my celebration. My ceremony." Her voice cracked at the edges. "How is it that I—the actual bell-ringer—haven't heard a word about this change?"

Marcus downed his champagne in one smooth motion and set the empty glass on a passing waiter's tray. When he looked back at Vivian, his expression held something that might have been pity if it weren't so cold.

"That's because your company's listing has been suspended, Mrs. Cross."

The words dropped like bombs.

Vivian's face went from flushed to pale in the space between heartbeats. "What?"

"Suspended. Pending investigation into financial irregularities." Marcus's voice was matter-of-fact, like he was discussing the weather. "The approval was frozen three hours ago."

"No." The word came out strangled. "That's not—I was just approved yesterday. The press conference—"

Marcus smiled. It wasn't kind.

"Tonight's bell-ringing ceremony belongs to Velmoré Group."

The name hit the crowd like lightning.