Page 11 of The Alpha's Crimson Vow

Chapter Four

Katherine

“You can handle anything they throw your way.”Alex’s words repeat in my head like a mantra. Even as my eyes meet Lawrence’s across the ballroom.

He’s seated at a round table with the other family elders, looking every bit the self-assured patriarch, sipping his whiskey and whispering to the others. His eyes flick to me, and I don’t miss the subtle smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. He knows I came alone, and he’s loving every second of it.

Good. Let him.

I didn’t pick anyone from his ridiculous list of potential dates. And I refuse to regret it, even if it feels like the spotlight’s been turned on me for all the wrong reasons.

A server passes by with a tray of champagne flutes, and I pluck one off without breaking stride. The bubbly is crisp, a welcome distraction as I move through the lavishly decorated ballroom. The chandeliers overhead cast a golden glow, and the room buzzes with laughter and conversation. The men are polished in sharp black tuxedos, and the women float around in elegant dresses that shimmer under the light.

I catch my reflection in a tall, mirrored wall, and for a fleeting second, I pause. I look stunning, even if I do say so myself. My black dress clings in all the right places, its sleek silhouette radiating power and sophistication. The straps rest delicately on my shoulders, and the neckline dips just enough to turn heads without crossing into trashy territory. My diamond-encrusted necklace glints under the lights, adding just the right amount of sparkle.

But the reflection also tells another story. I’m alone. Everyone else seems to have arrived with someone on their arm. I take another sip of champagne, swallowing the bitterness that creeps in alongside the bubbles.

As I turn, I catch the sight of Frank and Uncle Lawrence. They’re headed straight for me, Frank’s smug grin leading the charge. His arm is looped around a woman I vaguely recognize—one of his many ex-wives, I think.

They reach me in seconds, and Lawrence doesn’t waste time.

“Katherine,” he says, his voice low but biting, “I warned you not to attend without a date.”

The words hit like a whip crack, but I stand tall, meeting his glare head-on. “Well, Uncle Lawrence, the list you gave me wasn’t exactly brimming with stellar options,” I reply, keeping my tone calm, even pleasant.

“That list had exceptional men on it,” he counters. “Men who would’ve been good for you—and particularly good for this event.”

“Well…” I let the word hang in the air, a defiant smile tugging at my lips. “Too bad.”

I turn slightly, ready to walk away and put this conversation behind me, but Lawrence’s next words freeze me in place.

“You will not be giving the opening remarks tonight.”

It takes a second for the words to sink in. When they do, I turn back to him, my heart pounding harder now, a mix of disbelief and fury bubbling to the surface.

“The CEO of this company always gives the opening remarks at the annual gala,” I say, keeping my voice steady even as the anger rises.

“And the CEO,” Lawrence cuts in, emphasizing the title like it’s a crown he’s tempted to snatch off my head, “has always had theirpartner by their side during those remarks. Since you don’t have one, you will not be doing it.”

He gestures toward Frank, who’s been standing by silently, looking far too pleased with himself. “Frank here will take your place.”

The words land like a slap, and I’m suddenly too aware of the room around me. This moment—this privilege—is mine. It’s reserved for the CEO. It’s my chance to stand in front of investors, government officials, and employees as the leader of this company.

And he’s taking it away. Handing it to Frank.

“Frank will do no such thing,” I snap, my eyes narrowing as I glance at Frank, his smirk practically oozing off his face, before locking my gaze back on Lawrence.

“If you stand on that podium without a partner, you’ll embarrass the company,” Lawrence says, his tone sharp enough to cut steel. “That’s not what your father would’ve wanted.”

The mention of my father feels like a knife twisting in my gut.

Lawrence doesn’t wait for a response. He turns and strides away, leaving me standing there, seething. Frank steps forward, his grin somehow managing to widen.

“Don’t worry, cousin,” he says, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “I’ll give a fine speech.”

And with that, he walks off too, leaving me standing alone, my grip tightening around the champagne flute as I fight the urge to shatter it right here in my hand.

They stroll back to the table where the other elders are sitting, basking in their little victory like a pack of hyenas after a successful hunt. My eyes trail after them, catching the smug expressions on their faces as one of the elders pours Frank a drink.

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