Chapter 63: The Battle for Attention

The massive double doors crafted from polished mahogany swung open with a slow, dramatic flourish.

Instantly, the attention of the entire hall shifted toward the entrance.

A breathtaking woman stepped inside. Her shimmering white mermaid gown clung elegantly to her flawless figure, catching the light from the crystal chandeliers and scattering it like diamonds across the room. Every movement she made seemed effortless and regal.

Beside her walked one of the most adored faces in the music industry—the internationally acclaimed singer Martin Carter.

Together, they looked like royalty arriving at a grand gala rather than guests attending a technology summit.

Murmurs swept through the audience. Even Kristoff and Isobel turned toward the entrance.

The moment Kristoff recognized the woman, something in his expression transformed.

The cold indifference that had dominated his face in the last hour melted away, replaced by a warm, affectionate smile.

A smile so gentle, so genuine.

The change did not escape Isobel and her chest tightened. The ache she had been suppressing all this time returned with renewed force.

For months, she had once been the recipient of that smile. Now, it belonged to someone else.

No. She corrected herself.

It never belonged to me. I just borrowed it for a few months.

Before anyone could say a word, Kristoff rose from his seat. His movements were immediate and instinctive. Without hesitation, he strode toward the entrance.

Long, purposeful strides carried him across the hall, his urgency impossible to miss. It almost looked as though he couldn’t wait to reach her.

...as though every second of distance between them was unbearable.

Isobel lowered her eyes. A small smile touched her lips. But it was not a happy one.

It was the smile of someone finally accepting a reality she could no longer deny.

A smile filled with resignation...with loss.

With the quiet understanding that some hearts never choose you back.

She slowly turned away from the sight. Instead, her gaze landed on the stage.

On Morgan.

The man who had guided her back when she was about to lose her way. The man who helped her restart her life when everything was about to fall apart.

As if sensing her thoughts, Morgan glanced toward her.

Their eyes met.

A reassuring smile appeared on his face. A silent reminder that she was not alone.

Isobel returned the smile gratefully.

Meanwhile, the host stepped forward and addressed the crowd.

His smooth voice echoed through the grand hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our apologies for the interruption. Our special guests for today’s summit have just arrived."

The audience immediately quieted.

"They will be treating us to a special intermission performance following Mr. Foster’s presentation. Please join me in welcoming Mr. Martin Carter, the Prince of Pop Music, and the stunning Charlotte Harris, internationally renowned supermodel."

The crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause.

The host grinned.

"And later tonight, Miss Harris will surprise us all with a special duet alongside Mr. Carter."

The applause grew even louder. Cameras flashed. Excited whispers filled the room.

It clearly showed that among the crowd, Charlotte have lot of fans.

But on stage, Morgan’s expression darkened.

His fingers tightened around the presentation remote.

He scanned the audience slowly. Someone had orchestrated this. The timing was far too perfect.

His keynote presentation was the centerpiece of the summit.

Yet the dramatic arrival of two celebrities had effectively stolen the spotlight before he could even begin.

It felt deliberate. A calculated attempt to undermine him. To diminish his moment.

His gaze swept across the VIP section. The CEOs and the directors who were there were all focused on the three people walking on the red carpet.

Morgan’s focus shifted to the man who now walk to the right of Charlotte. Her hand hooked possessively on Kristoff’s arm.

A flicker of suspicion crossed Morgan’s eyes.

Could it be him?

But it couldn’t be him. He reasoned.

Even if Kristoff had the influence and connections necessary to arrange something like this, he would not do it. It made little sense.

They were partners on one of Dalton Realty’s most important projects. Sabotaging him would ultimately hurt both of them.

Still, the timing was difficult to ignore.

Morgan continued watching.

Kristoff had already reached the VIP table with Charlotte.

With surprising attentiveness, he pulled out a chair for her. His movements were careful. Protective. Almost intimate.

Only after Charlotte was comfortably seated did Kristoff take the chair beside her.

The seat directly beside Isobel.

...

At the VIP table, Isobel offered Charlotte a polite smile.

A gesture of courtesy.

But A gesture Charlotte completely ignored.

Instead, Charlotte turned her attention toward the executives and influential guests surrounding her.

She greeted them warmly and accepted their compliments with a bashful smile.

The same people who had barely acknowledged Isobel when she first sat at the table.

The subtle rejection stung more than Isobel cared to admit.

On stage, Morgan cleared his throat. The sound echoed through the microphone. The audience’s attention gradually returned to him.

"I must admit," Morgan began, his tone smooth but edged with irritation, "for a moment, I thought the First Lady had arrived."

A few scattered gasps emerged from the crowd.

Morgan’s smile never reached his eyes.

"Apparently, I was mistaken."

His gaze drifted briefly toward Charlotte.

"This is a technology summit, yet somehow it appears we’ve been transformed into a fashion show."

The hall fell silent. The insult was impossible to miss.

Charlotte’s face visibly paled. The smile on her lips faltered.

Humiliation flashed across her beautiful features before she quickly masked it. She turned toward Kristoff with wounded eyes.

Kristoff’s expression hardened instantly. His gaze shot toward Morgan like a warning.

It was a silent threat.

Morgan merely smirked. Unbothered. Then he shrugged lightly.

"But perhaps that’s not entirely a bad thing."

His tone softened just enough to diffuse the tension.

"We engineers, developers, and technology enthusiasts occasionally need a little entertainment."

A few nervous laughs rippled through the audience.

Morgan spread his hands casually.

"After all, creativity thrives on inspiration."

His smile returned. This time sharper and more deliberate.

"I suppose that’s what the organizers had in mind."

His words were polite but there was an undercurrent in it and a few of his rivals seating on the VIP table shivered.