At that mont Cora looked Emily in the eye, her voice calm and sharp. "Yes," she said. "I will be the one handing out the award."
Imdiately the room fell silent for a heartbeat then both Jas and Emily burst into laughter.
It wasn’t just a low laugh. It was loud, mocking, cruel.
Then Emily clutched her stomach, trying to breathe between the laughter. "Oh my God, Cora, you’re hilarious. You actually think Jas would take you to the event? Did you forget? You’re no longer his wife!"
At that mont Jas wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still laughing. "Even if we were still married, I would never take you there."
Then his voice dropped, heavy with scorn.
"Why would I do that? Why would I ruin my mont by dragging a crippled woman to the biggest business event of the year? Do I look like I want to be the main man of the night driving a wheelchair around?"
hearing Jas words Cora didn’t say a word, But her smile vanished.
Her eyes... turned deadly, Colder than ice, Sharper than knives.
Her entire body vibrated with rage, but she stayed still, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing her break.
She couldn’t believe this was who Jas had beco.
A man so drunk on his new status, he couldn’t even recognize the hands that fed him. Wealth had sunk deep into his head like poison, rotting away every trace of the man she once thought was kind.
She had believed a poor man could offer more genuine love than a rich one.
But now she had guessed wrong, because wealth doesn’t change people it reveals who they truly are.
Cora finally spoke, her voice low but firm.
"You’re going to regret everything you said today, Jas."
Hearing her words Jas chuckled, brushing her off like a child who didn’t know any better. "I won’t regret anything," he said confidently. "Trust . You’ll be the one doing the regretting when you’re out there, starting over in Cloudridge."
But just as the last word left his mouth, a deep hum filled the air.
The unmistakable sound of powerful engines rolling into the compound.
Everyone turned.
Seven luxury Rolls-Royce cars glided through the gate in perfect formation, their black-and-silver bodies gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. The Lorenzo mansion—so often a place of quiet ego and self-worship—suddenly felt small under the weight of the presence now entering.
Without wasting anymore ti Jas and Emily both rushed outside, stunned.
The sight was surreal.
Emily’s eyes widened as she clutched Jas’ arm. "Are you expecting soone?" she asked in a high, shaky voice.
Imdiately Jas shook his head slowly. "No... I..I have no idea who this is. I don’t have friends that drive like that."
The drivers parked with perfect symtry, not a single wheel out of place. Every door stayed closed, engines humming softly, like beasts waiting to be unleashed.
At that mont Emily suddenly gasped, her voice rising with excitent. "What if... what if this is the Victor family?!"
Imdiately Jas turned sharply to her. "What?"
She nodded quickly. "Yes! What if they sent these to personally pick you up for the event?"
Jas blinked, body stiffening as adrenaline rushed through him. His knees slightly weakened. "But the event’s not until hours from now..."
Emily clapped her hands, eyes sparkling. "Maybe they wanted to et you before the event! Maybe they want a private word with you!"
At that mont Jas couldn’t hold back his smile.
He laughed aloud, chest rising proudly. "They must be that impressed with ..." he whispered, more to himself than anyone else, his hands starting to shake not from fear, but from overwhelming excitent.
Just then, in a synchronized motion that felt almost rehearsed, each of the Rolls-Royce doors opened.
Out stepped drivers each dressed in tailored black suits, their movents crisp and professional. They didn’t look like regular chauffeurs. These n stood tall, alert, exuding discipline like elite security personnel. Not one of them spoke. Not one of them made unnecessary movent.
Then, finally, the door of the lead Rolls-Royce opened.
It was the only one with gold trim along its edges subtle but impossible to miss. Even the emblem on the hood was different, custom-crafted in a pure gold finish, Not standard, Not comrcial.
It was Exclusive, the kind only used by people with influence far above public reach.
From the backseat, a single figure stepped out.
A gentleman dressed in all white.
His suit was flawlessly pressed, no crease in sight. His presence alone demanded silence, no sunglasses. No dramatic expression, Just a calm, commanding aura that made the world pause.
Jas felt his heart pounding like a drum.
His palms were sweating. His mouth was suddenly dry.
That man... he thought. He must be the one. The true guest of honor. Or... maybe soone from the Victor family? A bloodline associate? A personal emissary?
Without wasting anymore ti Jas adjusted his collar, quickly running through how he would introduce himself. What should he say first? Should he ntion the award? His achievents?
But even as he tried to gather his thoughts, his eyes drifted back to the cars.
Seven, All Rolls-Royces. All custom.
And the emblems...They weren’t silver. they weren’t even matte black, they were gold.
Jas squinted at the gold emblem again, his mind racing. Was this so kind of elite logo? A custom label for the ultra-rich? It had to be. The Victors weren’t just wealthy they had several billions tucked across continents.
Maybe this was the kind of quiet luxury only people in their circle used, no flashy noise, Just pure power.
He was still lost in thought, still calculating how to approach the man in white
When a soft hum passed behind him.
It was Cora, as she rode her electric wheelchair past all of them, calm and silent, as if she didn’t see the tension in their faces or feel their eyes on her.
At that mont Jas turned, his smile instantly replaced by a grimace. Emily’s expression twisted with panic.
"What the hell are you doing, who let you out?" she hissed, her voice sharp with fear. "Are you crazy? You’re going to ruin Jas’ reputation!"
Jas stepped forward, his face burning with frustration. "Go back inside, Cora!" he snapped. "Don’t embarrass yourself. Or ."
But Cora didn’t respond.
She kept moving forward past the Rolls-Royces, past the drivers, toward the man in white.
Emily, clearly rattled now, rushed forward and grabbed the side of Cora’s wheelchair. "You’re not going anywhere," she whispered harshly, trying to turn the chair around. "Jas is about to have the mont of his life, and you’re not going to screw that up!"
But before she could move her the man in white finally spoke.
His voice was clear, deep, and respectful.
"Lady Cora," he said, stepping forward with a slight bow. "Chief Security, Lan Brown, at your service. Your father sent ... to bring you ho."
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