Chapter 35:
Marcus’s response was grave. “The gesture was wasted. The Dury family doesn’t see her worth. They’re planning to call off the engagement — claiming she’s not good enough for them.”
Guilt and outrage mingled in Kendrick’s chest. “How dare they! Who are they to look down on my granddaughter? Marrying into the Dury family would be a disgrace for someone of her standing!”
Felix’s face tightened with frustration. “That was not the outcome I wanted.”
With quiet conviction, Marcus added, “Having met her, I can say with certainty — she’s anything but worthless. Rylie’s talent speaks for itself.”
Felix’s tone hardened. “No one gets to trample on the Owen family. If the Dury family can’t recognize her value, there’s no need for us to continue any partnership with them.”
Time flew by, and before long, the Kirk residence bustled with anticipation for the upcoming banquet. The Kirk family pulled out all the stops, extending invitations to a throng of reporters in honor of Stacey’s homecoming.
A picture of familial bliss seemed to fill the room — at least, for everyone but Nicolas, who was lying in the hospital bed.
Stacey shifted uneasily in her seat. “It’s such a shame Nicolas couldn’t be here,” she murmured, a note of regret in her voice.
Her mother, Tessa Kirk, gently brushed her hair from her forehead, her tone soft but edged with disappointment. “I could never have predicted, after raising Rylie for so long, that she would end up harming her own brother.”
Across the room, Stacey’s father, Casper Kirk, spoke, his voice carrying a colder weight. “You can take a child out of poverty, but you can’t take the poverty out of the child. Frankly, we’ve shown restraint by not pressing charges against her.”
Leland’s eyes lingered on his parents. Watching them rally behind Stacey, he opened his mouth as if to protest — then simply let the words die on his lips. A shout broke the tension. “Rylie’s arrived!”
All eyes turned toward the entrance, anticipation crackling in the air. The crowd parted, but instead of a poised debutante in formalwear, an unexpected sound cut through the chatter — the deep-throated growl of a motorcycle.
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A matte-black bike tore into view, tires spinning to a dramatic stop just outside the banquet hall. Every head craned for a better look as Rylie coolly dismounted.
She removed her helmet, ran a hand through her wild hair, and strode forward — her black leather jacket and tailored pants setting her apart in a sea of gowns and tuxedos. The sharp pop of color on her lips, paired with her striking features, left more than a few young men momentarily speechless.
The gentlemen present, accustomed to the delicate manners of society’s finest daughters, found themselves riveted. Here stood a woman who owned both elegance and defiance in every gesture, radiating a confidence that set her apart.
Fred, moments away from making the breakup official, found his attention completely captured by Rylie’s entrance. He stared, caught off guard, until Stacey pinched his arm hard enough to snap him back.
Startled, Fred pasted on a reassuring smile for Stacey, but his mind was elsewhere.
Everyone remembered Rylie as the girl who hid beneath oversized sweatshirts. But tonight, she had shattered that image entirely — taking their breath away as she claimed the room for herself.
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