Chapter 1 - The Silent Room
The heavy mahogany doors of the Armand Grand Hall swung wide open.
I stepped into the blinding light of the ballroom with Gabriel Lancaster’s hand resting gently on the small of my back.
Every conversation in the room ceased simultaneously as if someone had pulled a plug on the sound system.
Three hundred of New York’s most elite socialites turned their heads toward the entrance.
Julian was standing near the center ice sculpture with a glass of champagne halfway to his mouth.
He froze completely.
His polished, practiced smile vanished as his eyes darted from Gabriel’s face down to my black velvet dress.
He stared at the undeniable curve of my five-month pregnant stomach.
The champagne glass slipped from his fingers and shattered violently against the marble floor.
Dalia let out a tiny gasp of shock, her manicured hands flying to her mouth.
The reporters waiting near the velvet ropes immediately raised their cameras.
Blinding flashes of white light erupted as they captured the exact moment Julian Duval realized his ex-wife was not broken.
Gabriel leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear.
"Are you ready for this, Khloe?" he whispered warmly.
"I have been ready for two years," I replied softly.
We walked slowly down the sweeping marble staircase, commanding the attention of every single person in the room.
Julian broke away from his fiancée and stormed toward the bottom of the stairs to intercept us.
His face was flushed red with a mixture of profound embarrassment and furious disbelief.
"What kind of sick stunt is this, Khloe?" Julian hissed under his breath as we reached the floor.
"Good evening to you too, Julian," I said calmly.
He glared at my stomach with absolute disgust.
"You really expect me to believe you magically got pregnant after you wasted years of my life crying over empty nurseries?" he sneered cruelly.
Gabriel stepped smoothly in front of me, completely blocking Julian’s view.
"You will speak to my fiancée with respect, Duval, or I will have my security drag you out by your expensive lapels," Gabriel warned in a deadly quiet voice.
Julian scoffed, trying to regain his arrogant composure.
"You don't own this venue, Lancaster," Julian fired back.
Gabriel smiled a smile that held absolutely zero warmth.
"I don't just own the venue, Julian."
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"I also just bought the controlling interest in your tech company’s primary debt holder."
"Which means, as of ten minutes ago, Khloe and I technically own you."
