At that event, it wasn't just Eden's beauty that captivated the crowd — the designer behind the collection, Ashmaria, also drew praise for her extraordinary work.
It was Eden's first time standing before such a large audience. From the stage, the sea of faces and flashing lights felt overwhelming. Her pulse quickened, and for a moment, the world seemed to spin. She steadied herself, scanning the crowd — security guards posted at every corner, and behind the curtains, she caught sight of Davin, ever watchful.
Her gaze drifted to Ashmaria, who was busy answering questions from the reporters. Everything seemed normal — until Eden's eyes caught a flicker of movement.
A man in a waiter's uniform was approaching the stairs to the stage. At first, she thought she was imagining it — maybe just another crew member. But then she saw his hand reach behind his back.
Her stomach dropped.
Before she could even think, he was running — knife in hand, his movements fast and purposeful.
"Ashmaria!" Eden screamed, sprinting forward.
Ashmaria froze, startled by the sudden shout. The next thing she knew, Eden had slammed into her, knocking her down just as the man lunged.
Gasps filled the hall.
The attacker's arm slashed forward, but Eden caught his wrist mid-air, twisting it sharply until the knife clattered to the floor. With a swift motion, she spun behind him, forcing his arm up and pinning him face-down on the stage, her knee pressed against his back.
Bodyguards rushed onto the platform, pulling Eden away as others restrained the man.
"Ashmaria, are you okay?" Lt. Phillip called, helping her to her feet.
"I—yes," she stammered, still dazed. If Eden hadn't moved when she did, that knife would've found her instead.
As Eden stood, she noticed the man reaching for the fallen knife again. Instinctively, she kicked it away — hard. The blade slid across the stage and stopped at a pair of polished black shoes.
When she looked up, she met Davin's cold, steady gaze. He was holding the knife now — and the entire room had fallen silent.
Eden met Davin's eyes. For a moment, she couldn't read his expression — calm, cold, and distant as always — but there was something new behind his gaze: disappointment… and anger.
Her pulse quickened. Did he not approve of what I did? she wondered. Did I go too far?
But Davin didn't say a word. His stare lingered on the knife before shifting back to her — sharp, assessing.
Eden turned away quickly, only then noticing a warm trickle down her arm. She glanced at it and froze. A cut — deep but not fatal — ran along her forearm. It must have happened when she pushed Ashmaria out of harm's way. She pressed her hand over the wound, hiding it under her sleeve before anyone could notice. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself.
Around them, the entire hall was in chaos. People were standing, murmuring in panic. Security guards formed a barrier around the stage while the media shouted questions they could no longer ask.
"Eden!" Cynthia's voice cut through the noise from the audience, where she stood with Paula and Nancy. They tried to move closer but were stopped by the wall of bodyguards.
The rest of the security team escorted the directors and executives off the stage. Davin's men surrounded Eden and Ashmaria, guiding them backstage away from the flashing cameras and confusion.
"What just happened out there?" Daniella asked breathlessly once they reached the safety of the dressing area. Several Navy officers were already stationed outside the door.
Ashmaria sat on a couch, pale and trembling, still too stunned to speak. Anica knelt beside her, gently rubbing her arm.
Eden sat in the corner, clutching her arm tightly, avoiding everyone's eyes. She didn't want anyone to see the blood or realize that she had been hurt. She wasn't supposed to be the one protected this time — not here, not in public.
"Drink this," Davin said quietly, handing Ashmaria a bottle of water. His voice was calm, but the edge in his tone was unmistakable. His eyes flicked briefly to Eden.
He hadn't expected her to act like that — to fight. To move with the precision of someone trained. He'd always assumed she was like the other royals he'd protected before: delicate, sheltered, someone to guard, not someone who could defend herself.
The silence in the room thickened as Lt. Phillip entered, dragging the captured attacker by the arm. The man's face was bruised, his wrists bound tightly.
"Sir," Phillip said firmly, "we have him secured."
Following Davin's orders, the entire event center was locked down under full security protocol. Navy officers swept every corner of the hall, while K9 units combed the area for explosives. No one was allowed to leave until every movement had been cleared.
"How did it go?" Davin asked as Lt. Phillip returned.
"It was Mr. Suarez," Phillip reported. "He escaped custody and planned the attack himself — no accomplices. Purely a personal grudge." He handed over his report tablet. "I've already turned him over to the police along with the weapon."
"Suarez?" Daniella gasped. "You mean that arrogant man who insisted his sister replace Eden as our model?"
"Sounds like him," Bernard muttered, shaking his head. "Persistent fool."
Daniella's expression hardened. "This is your fault. If you hadn't been so stubborn, none of this would've happened. All our efforts, ruined — just like your mother." Her last words were laced with venom as her eyes cut toward Anica.
Davin's fists tightened at his sides. He wanted to respond, but years of discipline and respect for family kept his temper in check. His mother's quiet plea for peace echoed in his head — Don't start a war inside your own bloodline.
Thankfully, his father wasn't present to hear this. The Queen Dowager had summoned him urgently to Valenor, and even in retirement, the former "Demon General" couldn't refuse her request.
"Daniella, enough," Meynard interjected firmly. "You can't blame the girl for another man's madness."
"Really? She's been at the center of every delay in this project," Daniella snapped back.
"That's enough!" Anica's voice rose sharply. "Can't you see she's still in shock? How could any of this possibly be her fault?"
Daniella scoffed. "You always defend her — that's why she's grown so arrogant."
"Stop this bickering!" Meynard thundered. "We are not enemies here." His words silenced the room. Daniella fell back into her seat, her shoulders tense. Zane placed a calming hand on her arm, and the room fell into uneasy quiet.
"For now, let's leave the premises," Davin said, his voice low but commanding. "Lieutenant, escort them out — and take a few men with you."
"Roger that, Commander," Phillip replied with a salute. He paused, then added, "Before you go, sir… you might want to see this."
He handed his phone to Davin. On the screen played a short clip — Eden disarming the attacker and subduing him onstage. The footage had already gone viral.
"It's only been a few minutes, but it's all over social media," Phillip explained. "Thousands of positive comments — everyone's praising her bravery. And the company's name is trending."
The others leaned in, scrolling through the comments flooding in.
Bernard smirked. "Well… looks like tonight's disaster just turned into free publicity." He looked at the screen again, shaking his head in disbelief. "Who would've thought? She's not just a pretty face — she's a trained fighter."
Within minutes, Eden Anderson became the number one search name across the internet. Everyone wanted to know where she came from, how she became the face of two giant companies — and how the firms had turned an unknown model into a living jewel. Not only did she elevate the Royalty Brand's prestige; she had captured the public's fascination.
From across the room, Davin watched her quietly. She sat against the wall, her head resting on the cold marble, one hand pressed against her arm. His gaze fell on the faint red stain spreading on her gown. His eyes narrowed, and a flash of the scene on stage ran through his mind — the knife, the blood, her pushing Ashmaria out of the way.
This girl...
Without a word, he returned Phillip's phone and started walking toward her. Phillip looked up, slightly puzzled, but said nothing.
Eden noticed the pair of polished shoes stop in front of her. Her arm throbbed beneath her palm, but she stayed still. She didn't want anyone to notice, didn't want to cause more alarm.
"How long are you planning to stay like that?" she asked softly, her voice weak but steady.
"Just a little longer," Davin said. "I'll wait until—"
He stopped mid-sentence when his eyes caught the blood seeping from her sleeve. Without hesitation, he reached for her arm, pulling her hand away.
"Please," Eden whispered, gripping the edge of his coat sleeve. Her eyes met his, pleading. "Don't say anything. I don't want to cause more trouble."
Davin exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. "This is what happens when you play hero."
A small, tired smile curved her lips. "You're not very friendly, Commander." She leaned her head back against the wall, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Commander." Phillip's voice broke the silence as he approached.
Davin gently freed his sleeve from Eden's grasp, then stood and unbuttoned his coat. He slipped it off and draped it over her shoulders, making sure the wound was hidden.
"Is she all right?" Phillip asked quietly.
"She's not," Davin replied, his tone flat. "But she will be." He stepped in front of her, shielding her from view. "Escort the others out. Get a car ready for us — we'll leave in thirty minutes."
"Yes, sir."
Davin crossed the room to his mother and sister. "I'll meet you at home," he said, kissing their foreheads briefly.
"Will she be okay?" Anica asked, glancing toward the girl in the corner.
"I'll take care of her," Davin answered simply.
He watched as his family left, escorted by Phillip and the guards. Once the doors closed behind them, silence filled the room again. Davin turned back to Eden — still sitting against the wall, her eyes half-closed, wrapped in his navy-blue coat.