Chapter 5: Daddy

Amy’s POV

Peter hovered by the window, pacing like a man waiting for a bomb to go off.

“Amy, this is insane,” he hissed. “What if he doesn’t show? Kael Woods isn’t the type to—”

“He’ll show,” I cut in, fastening the last diamond clasp on my bracelet. My tone was cold, final.

Peter stopped pacing, staring at me like I’d lost my mind. “And if he doesn’t? You’ll walk into that gala alone, humiliated, with every vulture there ready to tear you apart.”

I met his gaze in the mirror. “Then I tear them first.”

The woman staring back at me didn’t look like the Amy Stone I used to know. My hair was slicked back into a sharp bun, my deep crimson dress hugging my body like armor. No softness. No weakness. Just power.

Peter swallowed. “You look…” His voice trailed off.

“Dangerous,” I supplied, snatching my clutch from his hand. “Good. That’s the point.”

A black limo screeched to a stop outside, cutting off any more protests. The sound was loud enough to make Peter flinch. I didn’t move. I wanted him to see how calm I was, how certain.

The back door opened, and Kael Woods stepped out.

The air shifted.

Even Peter, who’d never been impressed by anyone, muttered, “Holy… shit.”

Kael was a storm in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. His presence alone silenced the entire street. Cold eyes. Calculated power. The kind of man you didn’t say no to and lived to tell the tale.

He didn’t smile when he saw me.

Good. I didn’t need charm—I needed fear.

I descended the steps slowly, each click of my heels deliberate. His gaze swept over me once, sharp and unreadable.

“Right on time,” I said, my voice steady.

“Are you ready to make the world choke on their words?” His voice was low, dangerous.

“I’ve been ready,” I shot back, sliding into the limo without waiting for permission.

The ride was silent, thick with tension. Kael sat beside me, his body radiating control. I didn’t look at him. If I did, I might forget why I was doing this.

When the limo pulled up to the gala, the street outside was chaos—cameras flashing, voices shouting, reporters screaming names.

The second Kael stepped out, the noise surged like a tidal wave.

The second I followed, it turned deafening.

Whispers erupted.

“Is that Amy Stone?”

“With Kael Woods?”

“This is… scandalous.”

“Wait—wasn’t she engaged to his son?”

Exactly what I wanted.

Kael didn’t flinch. He simply placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me forward as if he owned me. Maybe tonight, he did.

Inside, the glittering hall was full of power players and socialites who lived to see blood spilled. Conversations halted as every head turned toward us.

“Smile,” Kael muttered without looking at me.

I didn’t. I didn’t need to. The silence was enough.

Across the room, I spotted her. Melissa.

Her perfect smile froze when her eyes landed on me. She went pale, her champagne flute trembling.

“Amy?” she whispered, too shocked to hide it.

I gave her a slow, deliberate once-over before looking away, dismissing her like she was nothing. Because she was.

Melissa scrambled for her phone, probably calling Chad, panicking.

Good. Let them both choke on their own fear.

Kael leaned close, his breath brushing my ear. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Not nearly enough,” I murmured.

We moved through the crowd like predators, everyone watching, whispering, speculating. The tension was electric.

Then Kael stopped, turning to face me.

Before I could react, he dropped to one knee.

The room exploded. Gasps, screams, camera flashes going wild.

Melissa’s glass shattered against the floor somewhere behind me.

Kael’s cold, lethal voice cut through the noise.

“Amy Stone,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “be my wife.”

Time froze.

I stared down at him, every muscle in my body coiled tight. This wasn’t part of the plan—or maybe it was, just his plan, not mine.

The crowd held its breath, waiting.

Melissa was clutching her phone like a lifeline, panic etched on her face. Somewhere, I knew Chad was already on his way, furious and terrified.

And me?

I just smiled.

The crowd gasped again, this time louder, sharper.

Chad stormed through the entrance like a hurricane, his face red with rage, his tie hanging loose around his neck. He shoved through the crowd, sending glasses and waiters flying as he pointed a shaking finger at me.

“What the hell is this?!” he roared, his voice echoing through the grand hall. “Amy, what the fuck are you doing with him?!”

Melissa darted toward him, trying to calm him down, but he shoved her aside without even looking.

“You think you can humiliate me like this?!” he shouted, his voice breaking. “First, you disappear. Then you show up here, on my wedding day, with my father?!”

"Are you sure I disappeared?" I smirked.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Phones were out, cameras flashing like lightning.

Kael rose slowly from his knee, his towering frame making Chad look like a child throwing a tantrum. His expression was pure ice.

“Watch your tone,” Kael said, his voice low and dangerous.

“No!” Chad barked, stepping closer. His eyes were wild, spittle flying from his mouth. “You think you can replace me with her? You’re pathetic, old man! She’s using you, and you’re too blinded to see it!”

Melissa tugged on Chad’s arm, whispering frantically, “Please, stop, everyone’s watching—”

“Shut up, Melissa!” he snapped, jerking away from her. “This is between me and him!”

Kael didn’t move for a beat. Then, without warning, his hand shot out.

SMACK!

The sound of the slap cracked through the silence like a gunshot. Chad stumbled back, his cheek flaming red, stunned into silence.

“Enough,” Kael growled, his cold gaze sweeping the room. “You will not speak to me—or my fiancée—that way.”

Whispers erupted like wildfire.

Chad clutched his face, shaking with rage and humiliation, as Kael slid his arm possessively around my waist.

The message was clear.

Game on.