Chapter 32

CH 32

The Descent

Sophia’s POV

The applause reached her before she took her first step.

It rolled upward from the ballroom like a wave — loud, approving, certain. For a brief second, she closed her eyes and let it settle into her chest. This was the sound of power. The sound of arrival.

She stepped forward.

The lights from below caught the silk immediately. The black fabric shimmered softly as she began her descent. The gown clung perfectly to her frame, the open back curving low, bold and unapologetic. Cool air brushed against her bare skin as she moved, but she did not falter.

Every step was measured.

Controlled.

The cameras started flashing almost instantly. Bright bursts of white lit the staircase in rapid succession. She could hear murmurs now — admiration, approval, fascination. Guests leaned forward to get a better look. Some whispered her name.

Isabella Hartwell.

She kept her chin slightly lifted, her expression composed. She had practiced this. The pace. The posture. The angle of her shoulders. Nothing rushed. Nothing uncertain.

Halfway down, she turned gracefully, acknowledging the crowd on the left side of the ballroom. The movement was fluid, deliberate.

Below, the Chief of Security narrowed his gaze.

Something felt wrong.

He had seen the mark before. Years ago. Briefly. But clearly. A crescent-shaped birthmark on the upper curve of her back — small, distinct.

His eyes fixed on her exposed skin under the chandelier light.

He leaned closer to Julian without drawing attention.

“Sir…” he said under his breath. “The birthmark is missing.”

Julian did not react immediately. His expression remained composed, his posture unchanged. “Are you certain?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, sir.”

Julian lifted his eyes toward the staircase.

Sophia descended another step.

The silk shifted slightly with her movement. The open back revealed smooth, uninterrupted skin. No shadow. No faint curve. No crescent.

She turned again, offering a soft smile to the guests on the opposite side. The chandelier light fell directly across her spine.

Nothing.

Julian’s gaze sharpened.

He moved forward casually, as though stepping into position to greet her. Guests interpreted it as support — a brother welcoming the new Acting CEO. He reached the lower steps just as she approached the final few.

Sophia noticed him and smiled slightly, confident and radiant.

Julian stepped closer, positioning himself just behind her shoulder as if to guide her down. His eyes dropped briefly to her back.

Clear.

Unmarked.

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

He extended his hand politely, helping her down the final step. The applause continued, loud and unwavering. She stepped onto the ballroom floor with grace, basking in the attention.

Julian released her hand.

His face revealed nothing.

He moved toward Alexander.

The noise in the room was still high — clapping, murmurs, camera shutters. Sophia turned toward the crowd, waving slightly, absorbing the admiration as if it were already hers.

Julian leaned in close to Alexander, his voice barely audible.

“It’s not there.”

Alexander did not look at him.

He did not ask what he meant.

He understood immediately.

Across the room, guests continued clapping enthusiastically. Victoria’s smile remained steady, triumphant.

Sophia stood at the center of it all — glowing, confident, unaware.

Alexander’s expression did not change.

But his jaw hardened.

Just slightly.

And in that small movement, the foundation beneath the celebration began to crack.