The Sovereign's Return

Chapter 8

The instant Damian’s mocking words cut through the ambient ambient sound of the entrance hall, the quiet conversations among the nearby waiting guests ground to a sudden halt. Several prominent corporate leaders in the receiving line turned their heads in surprise, scanning the scene with awkward, uncomfortable glances. The atmosphere turned dead silent and frozen.

Marcus Vance’s jaw tightened in immediate outrage. His eyes flashed with anger, and he opened his mouth, ready to step forward and roar at Damian to reveal Ryan’s true identity right on the spot.

Before Marcus could utter a single syllable, Ryan caught his eye from across the short distance. Ryan shot him a razor-sharp, quiet glance, pressing his thumb subtly against his palm—an absolute command to stay put.

Marcus froze mid-step, swallowing his words back down his throat in immense frustration. Evelyn, seeing Ryan’s non-verbal command, suppressed her own urge to speak. Neither of them had any idea just how much longer Ryan intended to play along with this ridiculous illusion.

Evelyn leaned in slightly toward Ryan, keeping her head low as she asked in a tight, suppressed whisper under her breath, "Why aren't you letting us put him in his place right now, Mr. Carter?"

Ryan didn't answer with words. He merely glanced sideways at her, a faint, dangerous glint of amusement flashing deep in his dark eyes. He hadn't nearly finished playing with his prey yet.

Faced with Damian’s blatant public insult, Ryan didn't bother to defend himself, nor did a single drop of anger show on his calm face. Instead, he simply offered a light, unbothered smile, shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, and uttered not a single word of rebuttal—looking for all the world like a man passively admitting to the accusation.

Damian waited for two full seconds, expecting Ryan to flare up in rage or stammer in embarrassment. Seeing only a silent shrug, Damian’s smirk widened into a triumphant sneer. He raised his hand, gesturing toward the nearest venue security detail, fully intending to have Ryan publicly thrown off the premises to complete his humiliation.

Before Damian could signal the guards, Evelyn finally stepped forward smoothly. Her commanding, icy presence instantly pinned Damian in place.

"Ryan is my personal guest tonight," Evelyn spoke, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp, authoritative tone that echoed cleanly across the marble floor. "Mr. Blackwood, are you suggesting that you have the authority to throw out my invited guest?"

Damian’s arrogant expression flickered, and he let out a stiff, forced laugh, lowering his hand.

While Damian did not know Evelyn’s private role as Ryan’s executive assistant, he recognized her public corporate persona instantly: Evelyn Hayes, the formidable General Manager of Carter Group’s regional operations. She was an executive far above Damian’s current weight class, a figure he could not afford to recklessly offend right before pitching his pre-IPO allocation.

"Of course not, Ms. Hayes," Damian scoffed smoothly, trying to mask his brief stumble. "I meant no disrespect to you. I was merely pointing out the background of your companion."

Ryan, watching the interaction with calm amusement, stepped forward smoothly and bent his right arm, offering it toward Evelyn with effortless charm. "Shall we head inside, Evelyn?"

Though it was actually Ryan who had invited Evelyn to be his executive escort for the evening, to Damian’s watching eyes, the gesture looked entirely different. Seeing Ryan present his arm for the powerful female General Manager to take completely sealed Damian's conclusion: Ryan was undeniably a pathetic, kept man riding on a powerful woman's coattails.

Seeing Ryan and Evelyn finally prepare to move past the receiving line into the main ballroom, Marcus Vance let out a long, silent sigh of relief. He could finally escape the excruciating, sweaty social torture of acting like the top boss while the real owner stood watching from a pillar.

Damian, having brushed off Evelyn’s sharp warning, quickly recovered his arrogant stance. He adjusted his velvet tuxedo lapels, feeling utterly victorious for having publicly exposed Ryan as a gold-digging soft-guy in front of the city's elite.

Claire, however, stood quietly beside Damian with a deeply complex, troubled expression. In her eyes, Evelyn did not look or act like a wealthy, overbearing patron looking down on a kept pet; her posture toward Ryan carried a subtle, unquestioning deference that made no sense. Furthermore, Claire felt an ugly, irrational pang of resentment—she couldn't stand seeing Ryan adapt so seamlessly and move on so quickly with another magnificent woman, even if she was the one who had thrown him into the dirt.

Damian caught the subtle shadow on Claire’s face, misinterpreting her quietness as anxiety regarding their upcoming business proposal with Carter Group.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, squeezing her gently with supreme confidence. "Don't worry about a thing, Claire. Trash like Ryan is just an entertaining side show. The moment we seal the deal with Director Vance inside, our victory will be absolute."

With a grandiose posture, Damian offered his arm, leading Claire proudly through the heavy oak doors into the main summit ballroom.