Chapter 6 - The Charity Auction Setup
Three weeks passed.
Under Ronan’s protection and guidance, Ivy transformed. No longer the quiet, hidden maid in the torn uniform, she moved through the Blackwood estate with newfound confidence. Her brothers’ tuition fees were paid in full for the next four years, her family’s debts were erased, and she worked side-by-side with Ronan every day, analyzing financial records and finding the corrupt threads in the Hale family’s illegal operations.
The sexual tension between them grew thicker with every passing day. Late nights spent over financial ledgers turned into shared smiles, subtle touches, and stolen, intense glances that left Ivy breathless. Ronan treated her like a queen, completely unfazed by high society's ridiculous beauty standards. He adored her softness, her sharp mind, and her fierce loyalty.
Then came the night of the Annual Syndicate Charity Gala at the Grand Empress Hotel—the biggest event of the year for the city's underworld and corporate elite.
Vivienne Hale and her father, Julian Hale, arrived early. Vivienne was desperate to repair her ruined reputation, wearing a bright crimson gown and boasting to reporters that the incident at the Blackwood estate was just a "minor misunderstanding."
"Lord Blackwood will realize his mistake soon enough," Julian Hale sneered to a group of news reporters near the red carpet. "My family controls the main shipping docks. He cannot survive without us."
Suddenly, the crowd at the entrance went wild. Camera flashes erupted like lightning strikes.
A fleet of five bulletproof black Maybachs pulled up to the velvet rope. Armored guards stepped out, forming a protective perimeter.
The door of the center vehicle opened, and Ronan Blackwood stepped out, imposing, breathtaking, and dressed in a tailored black tuxedo.
He turned back to the door and extended his hand.
A soft, elegant hand rested in his.
Ivy Lancaster stepped out of the car.
The entire red carpet froze.
Ivy looked magnificent. She wore a floor-length, off-the-shoulder gown made of shimmering midnight-blue velvet that cradled her lush, plus-size curves like a masterpiece. A stunning necklace made of rare blue diamonds—worth more than the Hale family's entire estate—sparkled against her collarbone. Her dark hair was styled in soft waves, falling over the shoulder that had once been whipped.
Beside her, Ronan placed his hand firmly around her waist, pulling her flush against his side, presenting her to the world as his chosen partner.
Vivienne Hale’s champagne glass shattered on the floor as she stared in absolute horror.
"That's... that's the maid!" someone in the crowd shrieked.
"Is that Ivy Lancaster? The ruined heiress?" another investor gasped.
Julian Hale turned red with fury. "What is the meaning of this insolence?!"
Ronan guided Ivy past the flashing cameras, walking directly up to Julian and Vivienne Hale. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, watching the confrontation with bated breath.
"Julian," Ronan greeted smoothly, his hand resting possessively on the small of Ivy's velvet-draped back. "I believe you remember my Executive Director, Miss Ivy Lancaster."
Vivienne looked as if she had swallowed glass. "She’s a servant! You brought a fat, useless servant to the Empress Gala?!"
SLAP!
The sound rang loud and clear through the lobby.
It wasn't Ronan who struck her.
It was Ivy.
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Ivy lowered her hand, looking down at Vivienne, who was clutching her reddened cheek in disbelief.
"My weight may fluctuate, Vivienne," Ivy said, her voice clear, powerful, and utterly regal, echoing across the silent room. "But your trashy character is permanent. Speak to me or Lord Blackwood like that again, and I won't just slap you—I’ll take your father's last remaining company."
