Chapter 2: The Stolen Spotlight

Chapter 2: The Stolen Spotlight

The grand ballroom of the Seraphina Hotel was a galaxy of crystal and starlight. Chandeliers dripped diamonds of light onto the five hundred members of the city’s elite, their hushed conversations a symphony of power and influence. For the first time in his life, Liam felt none of the familiar pressure of his family’s world. Standing with Michelle by his side, her hand in his, he was not the disfavored son of Sterling Industries; he was the king of his own universe.

Michelle was radiant, her laughter echoing the clink of champagne flutes. She moved through the crowd with an effortless grace that captivated everyone she spoke to, yet her eyes always found their way back to him, a silent reassurance, a shared victory. This was their night, a fortress built against a lifetime of shadows.

The speeches were heartfelt, the toasts effusive. Liam watched his parents put on a flawless performance, playing the proud family for the benefit of the powerful Vance dynasty. He even saw Todd, a flute of champagne perpetually in hand, offering charming congratulations to guests, the very picture of a supportive brother. But Liam wasn't fooled. He recognized the feverish glint in his brother's eyes—the look of a performer waiting in the wings, itching for his cue.

After they shared their first dance, a slow, intimate sway to a melody that felt written just for them, the band leader’s smooth voice filled the room.

"And now, the bride would like to share a special dance with her father, Mr. Robert Vance."

A wave of warm applause rippled through the ballroom. Liam escorted Michelle to the center of the polished dance floor, where her father was waiting. Robert Vance was a man carved from granite and corporate law, his posture rigid, his expression perpetually guarded. He was a titan of industry, respected and feared, but not known for public displays of affection.

Yet, as he took his daughter's hand, a rare, genuine smile softened the hard lines of his face. It was a smile reserved for her and her alone. Liam saw Michelle’s eyes well with tears of pure, unadulterated joy. This moment, this simple dance, was a treasure to her, more valuable than any merger or acquisition. It was a public acknowledgment of a private, fierce love.

The band began a soft, timeless ballad. Father and daughter began to move, a graceful, practiced rhythm. The crowd watched, captivated by the quiet tenderness of the scene. Liam felt a profound sense of peace settle over him. This was perfect.

And that was when Todd made his move.

He strode from the edge of the room, not with the furtive shuffling of someone making a mistake, but with the purposeful, stage-commanding gait of a star. He held a microphone, evidently charmed from the band leader.

"Excuse me, everyone," Todd's voice boomed, amplified through the speakers, jarringly loud against the soft music. "If I could have your attention for just one moment."

The music faltered, then died completely. Robert and Michelle stopped, frozen in the center of the floor, a spotlight trapping them in a tableau of confusion. A confused murmur spread through the room.

Todd flashed a dazzling, apologetic smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Dad, Michelle, I am so sorry to interrupt this beautiful moment. But I am just so overcome with the love in this room tonight. It's… it's infectious."

He turned his gaze to a table near the front, where his girlfriend, Lucy, a sweet-natured heiress, was watching with a bewildered smile.

"Love," Todd continued, his voice thick with manufactured emotion, "makes you do crazy things. It makes you realize you can't wait another second to secure your own happiness."

Liam went still. The cold, patient rage from two days prior returned, no longer simmering but flash-frozen into a block of solid ice in his chest. He had known. He had seen the triumphant smirk at the altar and known the promise was a lie. He had signaled Jim. Plan B was armed and waiting. But seeing it happen, seeing the calculated destruction of Michelle's precious moment, was a new level of violation.

Todd walked directly onto the dance floor, stepping into the circle of light and leaving Michelle and her father standing awkwardly in the encroaching shadows. He walked right up to Lucy's table.

"Lucy, my love," he said, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper that still carried through the microphone. "From the moment I met you, I knew. And watching my brother, my big brother, find his soulmate today… it gave me the courage to follow my heart."

He didn't look at Liam. He didn't dare.

With a flourish that was pure theater, Todd Sterling dropped to one knee.

A collective gasp swept through the ballroom. From his pocket, he produced the black velvet Cartier box. He snapped it open, and the ten-carat diamond Liam had seen on the receipt erupted under the spotlights, a vulgar, blinding star. It was a spotlight stealer, designed for no other purpose than to suck all the light and attention in the room onto itself.

"Lucy Anne Miller," Todd declared, "will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you marry me?"

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, as a teary-eyed Lucy nodded, whispering "Yes," the room erupted. Some applauded out of politeness, others from genuine surprise. The younger guests whooped and cheered, caught up in the supposed romance of the spectacle.

Liam didn't hear any of it. He only had eyes for Michelle.

She was still standing on the dance floor, her father’s hand on her arm, forgotten. The tears of joy that had glistened in her eyes just moments before were still there, but they had changed. They were no longer tears of happiness. They were tears of shock, of disbelief, and then, of deep, profound humiliation. Her warm, brilliant smile had frozen, cracked, and crumbled into a mask of exquisite pain.

Her gaze lifted from the spectacle of Todd and Lucy embracing and met Liam's. In her eyes, he saw the full scope of the insult. This wasn't just a stolen spotlight. It was a declaration that her feelings, her family, her moment—none of it mattered. It was a public branding, a reminder from the Sterling family that she had married the second son, the afterthought.

That shattered expression was all the permission he needed.

Any lingering hope that his brother might possess a shred of decency, any thought of a measured response, evaporated. This was not a business negotiation. This was war. And Todd had just launched a devastating first strike against the one person Liam had sworn to protect.

Liam moved to her side, his hand finding the small of her back in a gesture of silent, solid support. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear.

"I've got this," he whispered, his voice a low promise of retribution.

He straightened up, his face a calm, unreadable mask. Over the heads of the cheering, oblivious crowd, his cold grey eyes swept the room, ignoring his beaming parents, ignoring his triumphant brother. He scanned the perimeter, through the shadows at the edge of the light.

His gaze found Jim, who was standing near the ballroom exit, watching, waiting. Liam gave a single, sharp nod.

The vulture had feasted. Now it was time for the executioner.