The unstoppable vengeance of Micheal Krux.

43: The Dance Everyone Watched

Chapter 43; The Dance Everyone Watched

The ballroom suddenly felt smaller.

Not because the crowd had changed, but because almost everybody in the room was now paying attention to Michael.

Layla noticed it immediately.

The whispers had grown louder again, and this time the conversations carried a different tone entirely. A few weeks ago, people spoke about Michael Krux like a disgraced man trying to claw his way back into relevance. Tonight, those same people were watching powerful investors approach him willingly while her father stood there looking increasingly isolated.

And Catherine Sterling’s arrival only made things worse.

Gabriel’s expression remained controlled, but Layla knew him well enough to notice the tension beneath it. Catherine Sterling was not just another wealthy socialite attending charity events for publicity. She was respected globally, and people listened whenever she attached her name to anyone.

The fact that she publicly walked toward Michael in front of cameras and investors sent a message without needing words.

Michael mattered now.

Catherine smiled softly at him while adjusting the silk glove around her wrist. “You still haven’t answered my question,” she said calmly. “Are you giving me that dance or not?”

Michael looked briefly toward the center ballroom floor where several couples moved gracefully beneath the chandelier lights.

“You always ask at dangerous moments,” he replied.

A faint smile touched Catherine’s lips. “Danger makes things interesting.”

Layla stood quietly nearby while reporters immediately began taking more pictures.

Flash after flash lit up the ballroom.

Her father noticed it too.

And somehow, every camera pointed at Michael tonight felt like another insult to the Luxter family.

Michael finally offered Catherine his hand politely.

“Only one dance,” he said calmly.

Catherine laughed softly before placing her hand in his.

The orchestra shifted into a slower melody as both of them moved toward the center floor together, and almost instinctively, people created space for them.

Layla folded her arms tightly across her chest.

This entire scene irritated her more than it should have.

Not because Michael was dancing.

But because he looked perfectly comfortable while her family’s reputation continued collapsing around them.

Gabriel suddenly let out a bitter scoff beside her.

“He enjoys humiliating people publicly,” he muttered.

Layla glanced toward him. “You think this dance is about humiliation?”

Gabriel’s eyes remained fixed on Michael and Catherine.

“That woman spent years refusing every partnership invitation I sent her,” he replied quietly. “Tonight she walks straight past me to stand beside him.”

Layla remained silent.

Because deep down, she understood why that hurt.

Across the ballroom floor, Michael rested one hand lightly against Catherine’s waist while leading her smoothly through the music. Unlike many businessmen who treated public appearances stiffly, Michael moved naturally, calm and composed beneath the glowing lights.

Catherine studied him quietly for a moment before speaking.

“You’re making enemies very quickly.”

Michael gave a faint smile. “I already had enemies.”

“And now?”

“Now they’re nervous.”

Catherine’s expression softened slightly.

“You sound exactly like your mother when you speak like that.”

Michael’s hand paused almost invisibly against her waist before continuing again.

Layla noticed the shift immediately from where she stood.

Small.

But real.

Catherine noticed it too.

“I shouldn’t have mentioned her,” she said gently.

Michael looked away briefly toward the city lights beyond the ballroom windows.

“No,” he replied quietly. “People avoid mentioning her too often already.”

Catherine studied him carefully.

“You still haven’t forgiven yourself, have you?”

Michael gave a soft laugh without humor.

“That would require believing I failed accidentally.”

The sentence unsettled even Catherine slightly.

Meanwhile, near the edge of the ballroom, Gabriel’s patience was beginning to crack visibly.

Several executives and investors who normally crowded around him now stood on the opposite side of the hall speaking with Michael’s associates instead. Even the reporters kept ignoring him in favor of photographing Michael repeatedly.

Layla suddenly understood something uncomfortable.

This was not just revenge anymore.

Michael was replacing them socially.

Quietly.

Piece by piece.

One of the younger investors approached Gabriel carefully with a forced smile.

“Sir, I heard Michael Krux may be hosting a private investors dinner next month,” the man said casually. “Do you know if the rumors are true?”

Gabriel stared at him coldly.

“How would I know?”

The young investor immediately looked uncomfortable. “I just thought since both of you are working closely now…”

“We are not working closely.”

The sharpness in Gabriel’s voice made nearby conversations pause briefly.

The investor quickly apologized before walking away awkwardly.

Layla watched her father carefully.

The humiliation tonight was affecting him badly.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

But in the quiet way powerful men suffered when they realized people no longer feared losing access to them.

At the center of the ballroom, the music slowly came to an end.

Applause rose politely across the room as Michael and Catherine stopped dancing.

Then something unexpected happened.

Catherine turned toward the stage area where several reporters still waited before speaking clearly enough for nearby guests to hear.

“It’s good seeing competent young men take leadership seriously again.”

The statement sounded harmless.

But the timing made it devastating.

Several people instinctively glanced toward Gabriel afterward.

Layla almost closed her eyes.

Another silent slap across her father’s face.

Catherine seemed completely unbothered by the reaction she caused. She simply smiled at Michael before touching his arm lightly.

“Don’t disappear after tonight,” she told him quietly. “Some people still remember who your mother truly was.”

For the first time that evening, Michael’s calm expression shifted slightly.

Not anger.

Not surprise.

Something deeper.

Before he could respond, one of the hotel staff suddenly hurried toward him looking nervous.

“Mr. Krux,” the man said quickly, “there’s someone outside insisting on seeing you immediately.”

Michael frowned slightly. “Who?”

The employee hesitated briefly before answering.

“He said his name is David Krux.”