At that moment Cora looked Emily in the eye, her voice calm and sharp. "Yes," she said. "I will be the one handing out the award."
Immediately the room fell silent for a heartbeat then both James and Emily burst into laughter.
It wasn't just a low laugh. It was loud, mocking, cruel.
Then Emily clutched her stomach, trying to breathe between the laughter. "Oh my God, Cora, you're hilarious. You actually think James would take you to the event? Did you forget? You're no longer his wife!"
At that moment James wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still laughing. "Even if we were still married, I would never take you there."
Then his voice dropped, heavy with scorn.
"Why would I do that? Why would I ruin my moment by dragging a crippled woman to the biggest business event of the year? Do I look like I want to be the main man of the night driving a wheelchair around?"
hearing James words Cora didn't say a word, But her smile vanished.
Her eyes… turned deadly, Colder than ice, Sharper than knives.
Her entire body vibrated with rage, but she stayed still, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing her break.
She couldn't believe this was who James had become.
A man so drunk on his new status, he couldn't even recognize the hands that fed him. Wealth had sunk deep into his head like poison, rotting away every trace of the man she once thought was kind.
She had believed a poor man could offer more genuine love than a rich one.
But now she had guessed wrong, because wealth doesn't change people it reveals who they truly are.
Cora finally spoke, her voice low but firm.
"You're going to regret everything you said today, James."
Hearing her words James chuckled, brushing her off like a child who didn't know any better. "I won't regret anything," he said confidently. "Trust me. You'll be the one doing the regretting when you're out there, starting over in Cloudridge."
But just as the last word left his mouth, a deep hum filled the air.
The unmistakable sound of powerful engines rolling into the compound.
Everyone turned.
Seven luxury Rolls-Royce cars glided through the gate in perfect formation, their black-and-silver bodies gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. The Lorenzo mansion—so often a place of quiet ego and self-worship—suddenly felt small under the weight of the presence now entering.
Without wasting anymore time James and Emily both rushed outside, stunned.
The sight was surreal.
Emily's eyes widened as she clutched James' arm. "Are you expecting someone?" she asked in a high, shaky voice.
Immediately James shook his head slowly. "No… I..I have no idea who this is. I don't have friends that drive like that."
The drivers parked with perfect symmetry, not a single wheel out of place. Every door stayed closed, engines humming softly, like beasts waiting to be unleashed.
At that moment Emily suddenly gasped, her voice rising with excitement. "What if… what if this is the Victor family?!"
Immediately James turned sharply to her. "What?"
She nodded quickly. "Yes! What if they sent these to personally pick you up for the event?"
James blinked, body stiffening as adrenaline rushed through him. His knees slightly weakened. "But the event's not until hours from now…"
Emily clapped her hands, eyes sparkling. "Maybe they wanted to meet you before the event! Maybe they want a private word with you!"
At that moment James couldn't hold back his smile.
He laughed aloud, chest rising proudly. "They must be that impressed with me…" he whispered, more to himself than anyone else, his hands starting to shake not from fear, but from overwhelming excitement.
Just then, in a synchronized motion that felt almost rehearsed, each of the Rolls-Royce doors opened.
Out stepped drivers each dressed in tailored black suits, their movements crisp and professional. They didn't look like regular chauffeurs. These men stood tall, alert, exuding discipline like elite security personnel. Not one of them spoke. Not one of them made unnecessary movement.
Then, finally, the door of the lead Rolls-Royce opened.
It was the only one with gold trim along its edges subtle but impossible to miss. Even the emblem on the hood was different, custom-crafted in a pure gold finish, Not standard, Not commercial.
It was Exclusive, the kind only used by people with influence far above public reach.
From the backseat, a single figure stepped out.
A gentleman dressed in all white.
His suit was flawlessly pressed, no crease in sight. His presence alone demanded silence, no sunglasses. No dramatic expression, Just a calm, commanding aura that made the world pause.
James felt his heart pounding like a drum.
His palms were sweating. His mouth was suddenly dry.
That man… he thought. He must be the one. The true guest of honor. Or… maybe someone from the Victor family? A bloodline associate? A personal emissary?
Without wasting anymore time James adjusted his collar, quickly running through how he would introduce himself. What should he say first? Should he mention the award? His achievements?
But even as he tried to gather his thoughts, his eyes drifted back to the cars.
Seven, All Rolls-Royces. All custom.
And the emblems…They weren't silver. they weren't even matte black, they were gold.
James squinted at the gold emblem again, his mind racing. Was this some kind of elite logo? A custom label for the ultra-rich? It had to be. The Victors weren't just wealthy they had several billions tucked across continents.
Maybe this was the kind of quiet luxury only people in their circle used, no flashy noise, Just pure power.
He was still lost in thought, still calculating how to approach the man in white
When a soft hum passed behind him.
It was Cora, as she rode her electric wheelchair past all of them, calm and silent, as if she didn't see the tension in their faces or feel their eyes on her.
At that moment James turned, his smile instantly replaced by a grimace. Emily's expression twisted with panic.
"What the hell are you doing, who let you out?" she hissed, her voice sharp with fear. "Are you crazy? You're going to ruin James' reputation!"
James stepped forward, his face burning with frustration. "Go back inside, Cora!" he snapped. "Don't embarrass yourself. Or me."
But Cora didn't respond.
She kept moving forward past the Rolls-Royces, past the drivers, toward the man in white.
Emily, clearly rattled now, rushed forward and grabbed the side of Cora's wheelchair. "You're not going anywhere," she whispered harshly, trying to turn the chair around. "James is about to have the moment of his life, and you're not going to screw that up!"
But before she could move her the man in white finally spoke.
His voice was clear, deep, and respectful.
"Lady Cora," he said, stepping forward with a slight bow. "Chief Security, Lan Brown, at your service. Your father sent me… to bring you home."