One week later
At the exclusive gala, only the Top 100 publishers were invited. The grand hall was dressed in elegance — chandeliers glimmered, soft classical music played, and champagne flowed freely. Guests arrived in dazzling gowns and sharp suits, each aiming to impress.
Ben arrived with his mother, Dorice, both radiating confidence as they entered the lavish venue. "They really outdid themselves this year," Dorice remarked, scanning the gold-draped hall with approval.
"Dorice, how are you?" a voice called out warmly. She turned, smiling. "Norman! It's been ages."
Norman nodded, "Still keeping the industry on its toes?"
She laughed. "Always."
"Ben, come greet an old friend," she added. Ben obliged with a polite handshake.
Later, after a captivating tango performance, the host stepped onto the stage. "Welcome to the 15th Annual Publishers Gala," he announced. "Tonight, we celebrate excellence. Please applaud our Top 10 publishers — come to the stage in order of rank."
One by one, nine individuals ascended the stage. The host paused, glancing at his list.
"We're missing someone. The CEO of The Royals — please come to the stage."
Silence.
"Final call: CEO of The Royals?"
Still no response.
Then — the grand doors opened.
All eyes turned.
There I was, dressed in a show-stopping red gown, adorned with sparkling diamonds and carrying a Dior bag that whispered wealth and power. My heels clicked with purpose as I walked through the stunned crowd.
I ascended the stage — and stood boldly in front of the first-place spot.
"Ma'am, that's not your place," the MC said cautiously.
"The Queen stands wherever she pleases," I replied, my voice calm but firm.
The room fell silent. Cameras clicked. No one dared question it.
"Let's take the photo," I said, already smiling for the flash.
After the pictures were taken, I made my way toward the restroom, heels echoing on the marble floor.
"There she is," Dorice whispered, subtly pointing in my direction. "Now's your chance, son. She looks kind of familiar… but forget that. Go ask her out."
Ben hesitated for a second, then stood and followed me.
He waited patiently outside the restroom. As I stepped out, our eyes met.
"Hello, Miss Royal," he said, flashing a confident smile. "Or should I say… the Queen. I must say, you look ravishing — and oddly familiar."
I didn't stop walking. I closed the distance between us until we were face to face, as if about to kiss. Then I whispered:
"Look at you… you couldn't even recognize the mother of your own son."
His smile vanished instantly. He stumbled two steps back, face draining of color.
"I-it's really you… Kira… How did you—"
"Blah, blah, blah," I cut him off. "What's wrong, cat got your tongue?"
Without waiting for an answer, I turned and walked away — head high, leaving him frozen in place with his past crashing down around him.