The security guard's voice was sharp as ice. "Madam, may I see your invitation?"

This was the Royal Solmaris Auction Hall's annual charity gala—an exclusive event attended only by the crème de la crème of society. Every guest was meticulously vetted, and the items auctioned were treasures beyond measure. A single breach in security could mean disaster—a stolen artifact, or worse, an attack on a VIP. No risks were taken.

Nathan Prescott sneered, pointing at Amy Sinclair. "Search her! If she resists, don’t hesitate to restrain her!"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

What was happening?

A discarded wife? A social climber?

Wait—wasn’t that Alexander Blackwood’s wife?

Amy stood perfectly still, surrounded by guards and the piercing stares of the elite. Not a single tremor betrayed her composure. She reached into her clutch and produced an invitation, her movements smooth and deliberate.

"Here," she said, handing it over.

Nathan stiffened. "That’s a forgery!"

The guard scanned the invitation. A clear beep confirmed its authenticity.

Nathan’s face twisted. "No—that’s impossible!"

Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, he jabbed a finger at her again. "She must have stolen it!"

Before Amy could respond, a deep, amused voice cut through the tension.

"Mr. Prescott, isn’t this excessive?"

Nathan whirled around to face Sebastian Kingsley, who regarded him with a faint, mocking smile.

"You’re accusing my guest of theft?" Sebastian’s voice carried effortlessly across the hushed crowd. "Who exactly are you insulting?"

The implication was clear.

A guest. Not his wife.

But if Sebastian Kingsley had brought her here, she was under his protection.

Amy tucked her invitation away, her expression unreadable. "Vigilance is understandable," she said coolly. "But accusations should be based on facts, not baseless assumptions."

The guards bowed their heads, chastened. They had been played.

Nathan opened his mouth to protest, but Victoria Langley gripped his arm. "Nathan, stop. Everyone is watching."

Alexander Blackwood’s voice was frigid. "Enough."

This was not the place for a scene. Not with the entire Newhaven elite watching.

Amy turned to Sebastian, a faint smile touching her lips. "Shall we?"

Sebastian shot Alexander a glance, then offered Amy his arm. She took it, and together, they strode into the grand hall.

Alexander’s jaw tightened. He moved to follow, but Victoria held him back.