The Sovereign's Return

Chapter 7

By seven o'clock that evening, the grand entrance hall of the Grand Hyatt had been transformed into the lavish receiving zone for the Carter Group Annual Commercial Summit. Massive crystal chandeliers suspended high above the pristine marble floor cast brilliant, shimmering light across hundreds of dressed-up attendees—prominent tech founders, venture capitalists, senior investment bankers, and high-society socialites.

At the center of the primary receiving line stood Marcus Vance, the white-haired Executive Director of Carter Group’s board of directors. Having served as the trusted right-hand man to the late Jonathan Carter for over three decades, Marcus was currently acting as the interim public representative of the board. He stood straight in his tailored tuxedo, extending hands and greeting arriving dignitaries, yet cold sweat slowly beaded along his hairline beneath the bright chandeliers.

Three meters away, leaning casually against a thick granite pillar with his hands resting easily in his trousers pockets, stood Ryan.

He was dressed in a dark charcoal three-piece suit, unbuttoned at the collar without a tie, radiating an air of completely unbothered detachment. Evelyn stood half a step behind his left shoulder, clad in an immaculate designer gown, her emerald eyes scanning the incoming crowd.

Because the outside financial world had not yet been informed that Ryan had officially acceded to the chairmanship of Carter Group, every single arriving guest naturally mistook Marcus Vance for the ultimate authority in the room. Prominent corporate leaders eagerly lined up to shake hands with Marcus, exchanging polished pleasantries and pitching high-level business ideas. Not a single guest paid any attention to the quietly composed young man leaning against the marble pillar just a few feet away.

Marcus kept shooting deeply anxious, awkward glances toward Ryan every few seconds. The situation was agonizing for the veteran director—the true supreme owner of the entire multi-billion-dollar conglomerate was standing right there beside a pillar, completely ignored while everyone treated Marcus like the host.

Twice, Marcus shifted his weight, intending to step out of the receiving line to formally introduce Ryan to the gathering. But each time, Ryan subtly raised two fingers, giving him a swift, imperceptible shake of his head. Ryan was enjoying the show far too much to let the curtain fall early.

Marcus had no choice but to stiffen his spine and continue playing the role of the grand host, his smile growing increasingly strained. Beside Ryan, Evelyn maintained a flawless, immaculate professional smile, though the very corners of her lips twitched with a microscopic, subtle tremor as she struggled with all her strength to suppress a burst of laughter. Ryan, meanwhile, remained utterly relaxed, as if the suffocating social awkwardness plaguing Marcus had nothing whatsoever to do with him.

Outside the venue, a sleek dark luxury sedan pulled up to the red carpet. The valet opened the door, and Damian Blackwood stepped out onto the pavement, wearing an expensive midnight-blue velvet tuxedo. Claire Morgan emerged right beside him, her sweeping emerald gown trailing gracefully as she took his arm, the multi-carat teardrop diamond pendant sparkling at her throat.

As they stepped through the glass double doors into the entrance hall, Damian and Claire immediately spotted Marcus Vance standing at the head of the receiving line.

"There he is," Damian murmured under his breath, his eyes lighting up with ambitious focus. "Executive Director Marcus Vance. He's the key decision-maker holding our pre-IPO allocation tonight."

Claire nodded, but as her gaze drifted past the receiving line, her eyes suddenly froze on the figure leaning against the granite pillar just three meters away. She gasped softly, tugging hard on Damian’s velvet sleeve. "Damian... look over there."

Damian followed her glance. His eyes landed squarely on Ryan, and right beside him, Evelyn Hayes.

To Damian and Claire, the picture was crystal clear. Marcus Vance was obviously the sole high-ranking corporate power present. And standing near the pillar was Ryan, dressed in a sharp suit, accompanied by an extraordinarily poised, commanding woman whose jewel-toned gown and striking elegance outshone almost every socialite in the hall.

Damian’s mind instantly linked the rumors together: Ryan had been brutally beaten and cast out broke two nights ago, only to resurface in a luxury store with a wealthy, powerful woman. In Damian's eyes, this scene cemented everything—Ryan was nothing more than a pathetic, kept pet living off a wealthy sugar mommy’s fortune to salvage his shattered pride.

Claire’s expression darkened slightly as she stared at her ex-fiancé. She knew his face too well, and seeing him standing there looking so unbothered sent a bizarre, uncomfortable knot through her chest. "How utterly pathetic," Claire murmured, turning back with a cold expression. "To think I spent four years supporting a man who degraded himself to being a kept pet the second things got a little hard."

Damian, however, saw an irresistible opportunity. He decided to put on a show of utter dominance in front of the surrounding high-society crowd and the elite executives before stepping up to pitch Marcus Vance.

Arm in arm with Claire, Damian strode arrogantly across the marble floor, stopping right in front of Ryan and Evelyn.

Damian looked Ryan up and down with an insufferably smug sneer, his voice ringing out loud enough for the nearby crowd to hear.

"Living pretty comfortably with your new sugar mommy, aren't you, Ryan?"