Grant straightened.
Delaney adjusted the necklace.
The orchestra stopped.
Every light turned toward the grand staircase.
I stepped forward in a black evening gown.
The Bellamy family emeralds rested at my throat.
Beside me walked Rebecca Sloan, chief counsel of Bellamy Holdings.
Behind us came the entire executive board.
Grant looked up.
At first, he appeared confused.
Then Rebecca moved half a step behind me—the position she always took when accompanying the chairwoman—and understanding began crossing his face.
The master of ceremonies smiled.
“Please welcome Ms. Seraphina Bellamy, controlling owner and chairwoman of Bellamy Holdings.”
Grant’s champagne glass slipped from his hand.
It shattered against the marble floor.
Delaney removed her arm from his.
I descended one step at a time.
Hundreds of cameras recorded his face.
The husband who had spent seven years explaining my insignificance was learning who I was in front of everyone whose approval he valued more than mine.
