Before he could respond, the lights dimmed, and the low hum of the crowd dissolved into silence as the massive doors at the top of the staircase opened.
A single woman stepped into the light, wearing deep blue velvet, her presence commanding attention without a single glance toward the cameras.
Miles felt his breath leave him. It was Lydia. Not the woman who stayed in the background, but someone unmistakably transformed by authority rather than fabric, moving with a confidence that felt final.
The announcer’s voice rang clearly, “Please welcome the founder and chair of Meridian Crest Holdings, Ms. Lydia Redwood.”
The room erupted as Miles stood frozen, the realization crashing into him with brutal clarity, while Brielle slowly withdrew her hand from his arm, her expression shifting from admiration to calculation.
Lydia descended the stairs and stopped before Miles, her gaze steady, unflinching.
“Good evening,” she said calmly. “It appears I was removed from the guest list.”
Miles stammered, “Lydia, this is a misunderstanding, you should not be here.”
She glanced briefly at Brielle, then returned her attention to Miles. “On the contrary, this is precisely where I belong.”