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Chapter 720
Chapter 720:
Isolde handed her champagne glass to a nearby waiter. She straightened her spine and stepped forward in her Christian Louboutin heels, her movements fluid and completely devoid of fear.
She walked past Belle without turning her head, without blinking — treating the sobbing woman like a microscopic speck of dust on the floor.
Isolde reached the red velvet steps, lifted the edge of her crimson gown, and ascended to the main stage, stepping into the center of absolute power.
Alistair watched her approach. A glint of genuine approval flashed in his eyes. He lifted his right hand from his cane and extended it toward her.
Isolde reached out and firmly shook the hand of the man who controlled Wall Street. Her posture was flawless. She radiated the cold, untouchable dominance of a true matriarch.
Alistair turned to face the crowd, positioning his body slightly in front of Isolde — a physical barrier of protection and endorsement.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he declared, his voice booming through the hall. “Allow me to officially present the only legitimate daughter-in-law of the Lancaster empire. The future spine of this family. Isolde p>
Thunderous applause erupted. The billionaires and politicians who had been laughing mere seconds ago immediately raised their glasses in deep, unambiguous respect.
At the foot of the stairs, the deafening wave of applause crushed Belle where she stood. She covered her face with both hands. Her tears dissolved her expensive makeup into a muddy, ruined mess.
Five years of carefully constructed lies — her fabricated identity as a brilliant tech founder, as Grayson’s soulmate and the Lancaster family’s inevitable future — were incinerated in a single sentence from Alistair. She was permanently branded, in front of everyone who mattered, as a delusional, pathetic mistress.
At the back of the room, four Blackwater security contractors tapped their earpieces simultaneously. They began moving with heavy, synchronized steps directly toward Belle.
𝘉𝖾 р𝗮𝗿𝗍 𝘰𝗳 𝗈𝘂𝘳 соm𝗺𝘂𝗇𝗶𝘵𝘆 o𝗇 ѕ.𝘤𝗈m
The applause in the ballroom reached a fever pitch. But beneath the loud clapping, the sharpest predators in the room were already analyzing the blood in the water.
Several senior board members from Wall Street investment banks leaned close to one another, whispering rapidly, calculating how this very public domestic war would impact SkyLine’s quarterly earnings report on the Nasdaq come morning.
Alistair’s eyes caught their subtle movements. He knew exactly what they were thinking.
He tilted his head slightly, keeping his face perfectly neutral for the cameras, and aimed his voice like a blade at Grayson.
“If you do not convince those old foxes that your marriage is made of solid iron in the next ten seconds,” Alistair murmured, “you will be permanently removed from the board of directors before sunrise p>
Grayson’s chest tightened painfully. A wave of useless, suffocating guilt moved through him as he watched Belle’s tears ruin her face. He wanted to reach out, to shield her from the absolute destruction raining down on her. But his grandfather’s voice was a far more immediate and lethal threat. The empire. It was always about the empire. The threat of losing his corporate throne overrode the sight of the woman he claimed to love, weeping on the floor.