The Graham Heir—I Am Not An Adopted Nobody

Chapter 27: The Stain

Edward stepped forward.

The music was still playing in the background, but the elegance was gone. The air in the hall felt tense, like a wire pulled until it was ready to snap.

Chloe didn't wait for him. She moved first, stopping a passing waiter with a mean glare. Without saying a word, she snatched a glass of deep red wine from his tray. She took a slow, cold sip, her lips curled into a smile.

Then she walked forward. She didn't rush. She didn't hesitate. She walked like she already owned the stage.

Robert and Avery were still moving.

They were smooth, controlled, and perfectly in sync with the music. They acted like they hadn’t even noticed the shift in the room, but the crowd certainly had, and whispers had started.

Edward climbed up first, followed by Chloe. She lifted the hem of her expensive dress as she stepped onto the marble. The overhead spotlight widened to focus on all four of them.

Avery felt the change instantly. Her mood had turned sour. She glanced toward Morris Emmett at the head table. He was smiling.

Chloe raised her glass. “Oh, don’t stop because of us,” she said, her voice light and fake. “We just thought we’d join in the fun.”

Robert didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at her. He simply guided Avery through another slow, graceful turn. That calm, total lack of interest made Chloe’s smile twitch with anger.

Edward stepped closer, his voice loud enough for the front rows to hear. “Father said we should show everyone how the Emmetts really dance.”

A few people laughed nervously. The music shifted to try to fit four dancers, but the rhythm was already dead.

Chloe raised her glass one more time. “Alright,” she said brightly. “One last sip before we start.”

She tilted the glass toward her lips. And then — it happened.

It looked like a mistake. Her heel seemed to twist and her body bent forward with a sudden, clumsy jerk.

The wine flew.

A dark red arc cut through the golden spotlight. It splashed hard across Robert’s chest and soaked into Avery’s dress.

The music cut off and the sound of the glass shattering on the marble floor echoed through the dead silence of the hall.

Gasps filled the room. Avery froze. She felt the cold, wet liquid heavy against her waist, spreading down the fabric of her gown.

Robert didn’t move an inch. He stood there as red wine dripped from his sleeve, from the sharp line of his suit, and from the tips of his fingers.

Chloe covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh my God!” she cried out. “I am so sorry!”

She rushed toward Avery first, acting sober. “I am so, so sorry, Avery! I didn’t see the edge of the platform. I’m such a mess tonight!”

She hurried down the platform, grabbed napkins from a stunned waiter, and started dabbing at Avery’s dress.

“I can’t believe I did that. Please forgive me. This is so embarrassing.” She even bowed her head, her voice trembling. It was a perfect performance.

Avery stood there, stunned. “It’s… it’s fine,” she said automatically, though her heart was racing with humiliation.

Edward stepped closer. “Avery, we’re really sorry,” he said smoothly. He put a hand on her arm as if he actually cared.

Then his eyes shifted to Robert. His tone changed instantly. It went from concerned to vicious. He looked Robert up and down, and a sneer formed on his face.

“Damn,” Edward said. “That’s a real shame.” He stared at the wine soaking through the expensive fabric. “You probably stole that suit, didn’t you?”

A shocked gasp echoed through the crowd. Avery stiffened, but Edward wasn't done. He raised his voice so the whole room could hear the insult.

“And now it’s ruined. The owner of that shop might make you clean floors for thirty years to pay that off.”

A few uncomfortable laughs came from the edges of the room. Edward leaned in closer, his eyes beamed with hate.

“Or maybe,” he added with a casual shrug. “you should just sell your little sister to the mafia and pay it off. At least she wouldn’t have to live in the dirt with you.”

The entire hall was silent, but it wasn't just a quiet room— this was a heavy, suffocating silence.

The kind that makes it hard to breathe. Avery felt her stomach drop. Her eyes snapped to Robert. She expected him to flare up, talk back, and defend himself.

But he just stood there perfectly still. Wine was still dripping from his cuffs, but his face was like a mask. It was too calm for this situation.

Edward made a mistake, he thought that silence was weakness. He smirked, feeling like he had won the night.

Across the hall, two chairs scraped against the floor.

Andrew Schmidt and Barry Sanders.

They didn't look amused. They didn't look entertained. They began to walk down the VVIP section.

They didn't rush, and they weren't dramatic. They just moved directly toward the stage, and the crowd instinctively parted for them like the Red Sea.

Edward was still talking, unaware of the storm coming behind him. “You really should learn your place, Robert. Events like this aren’t for people like—”

CRACK.

The first slap landed before he could finish the sentence. The sound was sharp and clean. Barry’s hand hit Edward’s face so hard that his head snapped to the side.

Chloe gasped, half screaming. Before Edward could even process what had happened

CRACK.

Andrew stepped in and slapped him from the other side.

Edward staggered back, clutching his face