The Woman Above Them

The ballroom had changed.

Completely.

Earlier, fear belonged to the Moretti brothers. Now attention belonged to Isabella. And the difference was driving them insane.

All of them.

Aiden stood near the center of the ballroom with one hand in his pocket, whiskey glass resting loosely in the other. His face remained unreadable to everyone else.

But his brothers knew him. They noticed the subtle tension in his jaw. The dangerous stillness in his eyes.

Because Isabella had looked at them and judged them.

Not feared.

Not admired.

Judged.

Like they were disappointing.

It was subtle.

Tiny.

Almost invisible.

But the Moretti brothers noticed everything.

Especially disrespect.

Lucien scoffed quietly.

"She looked at us like we were beneath her."

Victor laughed once in disbelief.

"Impossible."

But even he didn't sound convinced.

Across the room Isabella remained seated elegantly in the corner, speaking politely to an elderly woman now and then while slowly sipping wine.

Not once had she approached them. Not once had she tried to gain their attention.

It made no sense.

Back then Isabella used to revolve around them completely.

Now?

Now she acted like they were background noise.

Damian muttered darkly, "She's doing this intentionally."

Roman's eyes remained fixed on her. "Of course she is."

Meanwhile, whispers spread wildly through the ballroom. "She looks familiar..."

"Where have I seen her?"

"That dress alone probably costs more than my house..."

"Who did she become?"

Claire Donovan looked especially miserable.

Every time Isabella smiled politely at someone, Claire flinched like she expected public revenge.

Victor noticed and smirked. "She is going to cry soon."

"She deserves worse; she used to bully every girl for no reason." Lucien replied coldly.

Aiden remained silent.

His gaze stayed fixed on Isabella.

Studying her.

Trying to understand her.

But that somehow irritated him more because he couldn't. Nothing about her tonight fit the version of Isabella he remembered.

The old Isabella was warm.

Soft-spoken.

Easy to hurt.

This woman looked like she could ruin lives with a smile. Suddenly the ballroom lights dimmed slightly.

Why does she judge them earlier? Wait, did she judge them or them?

A microphone screeched softly the principal stepped onto the stage. The room slowly quieted.

"Well," Victor drawled. "Here comes the desperate donation speech."

Several nervous laughs echoed awkwardly through the crowd. The principal adjusted his tie, visibly emotional. It seemed as if he was about to give a speech about his life struggles.

"Thank you all for attending Saint Augustine Academy's Ten-Year Reunion Gala."

Polite applause followed. The principal smiled warmly.

"When I look around this room tonight... I see doctors, lawyers, business owners, professors... people who once walked these halls as children."

His eyes moved toward the Moretti brothers briefly.

"And some who became far more powerful than any of us imagined."

The room tensed instantly but the principal wisely moved on.

"Tonight is about celebrating success. Celebrating growth. Celebrating what our students became."

Waiters began distributing small velvet boxes.

Awards.

Recognition medals.

People straightened proudly.

Several alumni whispered excitedly.

The principal began announcing names one by one.

"Outstanding Medical Achievement..."

A surgeon accepted his plaque proudly.

"International Academic Recognition..."

A woman cried while accepting hers.

"Entrepreneurship Excellence..."

More applause.

The Moretti brothers looked bored out of their minds.

Lucien checked his watch.

Damian looked ready to leave.

Victor leaned against the wall dramatically.

"Normal people's achievements are adorable."

Then,

"Aiden Moretti."

The room instantly stiffened; the principal forced a careful smile. It was as if he were about to say, 'I don't want to do it, but I don't have a choice.'

"For... exceptional global influence in business and economic expansion."

Nobody mentioned the criminal empire.

Of course not.

People applauded nervously.

Very nervously.

Aiden walked onto the stage slowly.

The principal looked terrified handing him the award.

Aiden accepted it lazily. Like receiving trophies meant nothing anymore.

Which, honestly?

It didn't.

Lucien received one next.

Then Roman.

Then Damian.

Then Victor.

Every award announcement felt tense and surreal because everyone knew what these men truly were.

Killers.

Kings.

Monsters in tailored suits.

Yet nobody dared say it aloud.

Victor returned from the stage laughing quietly. "They gave Damian an award for 'security innovation.'"

Damian smirked. "I did innovate interrogation methods."

Roman nearly smiled. Then finally,

The principal's tone changed.

Completely.

His expression softened into genuine admiration.

Real admiration.

And suddenly the room grew quieter.

"Now..."

He paused dramatically.

"There is one final recognition tonight."

The atmosphere shifted instantly. Even the Moretti brothers looked up.

The principal carefully lifted a black velvet box from the podium. Different from the others.

More elegant.

More prestigious.

"This award," he said slowly, "has only been given four times in Saint Augustine history."

The room held its breath.

"The last recipient received it thirty years ago."

Whispers spread immediately.

"What award?"

"No way..."

"Who's getting that?"

The principal smiled proudly.

"This recognition is reserved for individuals whose achievements bring international honor not only to themselves... but to the academy itself."

Even Aiden's attention sharpened slightly now. Because this was clearly important.

The principal continued,

"The recipient this evening is considered a legend in their field."

A murmur swept the ballroom.

"They currently operate across Paris, Milan, Tokyo, London, and New York."

Now people looked genuinely stunned.

Victor frowned slightly.

"Wait..."

The principal smiled wider.

"Their schedule is impossibly demanding. In fact, we were informed they had no intention of attending tonight because they flew directly from Paris only hours ago."

A ripple of excitement spread.

Someone whispered eagerly, "Who is it?"

The principal looked almost emotional now.

"But despite everything... they still chose to return here tonight."

The room became completely silent.

And then,

The principal spoke one name.

"One of the most influential figures in modern luxury fashion."

Even the Moretti brothers visibly reacted now. Because everyone knew that name.

Everyone.

The fashion empire that ruled elite society. The mysterious designer whose work politicians, royalty, celebrities, billionaires, and crime syndicates all wore.

A brand so exclusive even getting invited to buy from them was considered status.

Bee.

The room erupted instantly.

"Oh my God."

"No fucking way..."

"Bee is HERE?!"

"That's impossible!"

Even Lucien looked genuinely shocked.

Victor straightened immediately.

"Bee?"

Damian blinked slowly.

"The Bee?"

Roman's expression sharpened instantly.

Even Aiden finally looked fully interested.

Because yes. Even the Moretti brothers wore Bee.

Their suits.

Their watches.

Their coats.

Half the luxury world bent itself backwards for Bee designs. Nobody knew who Bee truly was.

No photographs.

No interviews.

No public identity.

Just mystery.

Power.

Perfection.

The principal smiled proudly at the crowd's reaction. "Yes."

The room practically vibrated now.

And then the principal delivered the final blow.

"We are deeply honored tonight..."

He paused.

Every single person watching him breathlessly.

"To welcome Bee personally."

The ballroom exploded.

People looked around frantically.

Searching.

Confused.

"Where?!"

"Who is it?"

"Is Bee actually here?!"

Even the Moretti brothers scanned the room now.

And then,

The principal smiled toward the corner table. Which shocked everyone, because no, no way.

Because he is looking towards the?

His next words shattered the entire ballroom apart.

"I would like to invite Miss Bella..."

Silence.

Dead silence.

"As you all once knew her..."

The principal smiled proudly.

"Isabella Vale."

Voices stopped.

Completely.

And then,

"...to the stage."