Real Heiress: Flash Marriage With Boyfriend's Uncle - Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Focus only on me

With her hand delicately placed in Lucius’ firm grasp, Layla descended the grand staircase with effortless grace, the soft glow of the chandelier casting a spotlight on them. In the background, the gentle notes of a piano melody filled the air.

From across the room, Orabela’s gaze zeroed in on Layla, her expression tightening as her eyes locked onto the dazzling pendant hanging around Layla’s neck.

The diamond, nestled within an intricate setting, sparkled brilliantly under the lights.

Orabela’s breath hitched, recognizing the piece instantly. It was the rarest diamond in the world, a one-of-a-kind treasure she had coveted ever since she saw it featured at an exclusive auction last month.

She had been determined to own it, willing to pay any price to possess such a symbol of prestige and wealth.

‘So Lucius was the buyer,’ Orabela thought bitterly, her jealousy flaring as she struggled to maintain her composure.

The realization struck her like a blow—Layla, the Illegitimate and worthless daughter of the Rosenzweig Family, was now adorned with the very jewel she had desired.

Orabela’s fingers tightened around the stem of her champagne glass, her knuckles turning white.

It wasn’t just the pendant that gnawed at her; it was what it represented. Layla was living the life of a queen, draped in luxuries and lavished with attention by Lucius, a man known for his ruthlessness and selective affection.

She looked at Roderick, who was also present in the reception. ‘Rick, why aren’t you like Lucius?’ Orabela thought.

As Layla and Lucius reached the bottom of the staircase, they paused.

Orabela’s heart burned with jealousy and frustration. She had always seen herself as the only one worthy and outshone, but now Layla, with her unassuming charm and undeniable allure, had usurped that place.

“Bella, are you alright?” Miriam’s voice was soft, her eyes searching her daughter’s face for any sign of distress.

“Yeah,” Orabela murmured, taking another sip of her champagne, though the bitterness in her gaze betrayed her calm facade.

“That pendant… I wanted it so badly. But the price was astronomical, and I couldn’t justify buying it then. Seeing it around Layla’s neck—being given to her so effortlessly—it hurts, Mom.” Her fingers trembled slightly as she set the glass down on the table.

Miriam’s eyes followed her daughter’s gaze, landing on Layla, who stood radiantly beside Lucius. “It’s just a piece of jewelry, Bella,” she said softly, her tone pragmatic. “There are countless more precious diamonds in the world. You can still have your pick from the finest. Don’t let this unsettle you.”

Orabela forced a smile, masking the irritation simmering beneath her composed exterior. She knew her mother meant well, but it wasn’t just about the diamond. It was the fact that Lucius had chosen to give it to Layla, a woman Orabela considered unworthy of even a fake jewelry.

Before she could dwell on it further, Lucius’ voice rang out, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” His tone was filled with an unusual warmth that seemed out of his character. “I am so grateful that you could all join us for this special occasion. Allow me to introduce you to my wife, Layla Lucius De Salvo.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, eyes widening in surprise and curiosity. Lucius continued, his gaze shifting to Layla with a softness that startled even those closest to him.

“We had a very intimate wedding, which is why this reception couldn’t happen earlier. But tonight, I’m honored to celebrate our union with all of you. I hope you will bless us with your best wishes.”

Lucius, the man whom everyone was scared because he was labeled as a heartless man, was now openly displaying his affection for Layla.

“Give me the pleasure of a dance, Layla,” Lucius said, his voice low and inviting as he extended his hand toward her, bowing slightly in a gesture of old-world charm.

“I—I’m not good at dancing,” Layla stammered, her gaze darting around nervously. She could feel the eyes of the crowd on them.

“Then just trust me,” Lucius murmured, his blue eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her pulse race.

Swallowing her anxiety, Layla hesitantly placed her hand in his. His grip was firm yet gentle as he pulled her closer, his other hand slipping to the small of her back.

She inhaled sharply, her breath mingling with his as they stood so close that she could feel the warmth of his body. His proximity made her heart flutter, her gaze locked on his.

“Don’t be mad if I step on your shoes,” she whispered, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. “If you had told me earlier, I would have practiced a little.”

“I wanted our first dance to be special,” Lucius replied, his voice a hushed caress. His lips hovered near hers, so close that she could almost feel their touch. The way he looked at her made the rest of the world fade away, leaving only the two of them in this stolen moment.

With a swift, graceful motion, he twirled her, the skirts of her dress fanning out elegantly as he spun her away before drawing her back against him. His hands now rested lightly on her abdomen, his lips brushing her ear as he leaned in, sending a shiver down her spine.

“People are watching,” Layla murmured, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. She could sense the guests’ curious stares, some amused, others surprised by this open, affectionate display from Lucius.

“Then focus only on me,” Lucius whispered, his voice a seductive murmur that made her heart skip a beat. His fingers tightened slightly on her waist, anchoring her to him as they moved together in perfect synchrony.

Layla’s initial nerves melted away as the music enveloped them, the world around them blurring into a soft haze. All she could feel was the steady rhythm of Lucius’ heartbeat against her, the warmth of his breath on her skin, and the magnetic pull of his gaze, keeping her utterly captivated.

Meanwhile, down the grand stage, both Roderick and Orabela stood seething, their faces a mask of barely contained fury.

Roderick’s jaw tightened as he watched Layla sway effortlessly in his uncle’s arms, her smile blending with the music, her eyes shining with an unguarded joy that he had never seen before.

He hated the way she looked at Lucius, hated how she seemed to belong in his world, in his arms.

On the other table, Orabela’s anger was equally fierce, though hers burned for a different reason. The murmurs of admiration and envy that floated around the room were all aimed at Layla, the whispers declaring her as the true heiress of the Rosenzweig Family.

Orabela’s fingers clenched tightly.

‘How dare she steal my happiness?’ Orabela fumed, her eyes narrowed into slits as she glared at Layla.

She wanted to see Layla gone and lifted her gaze to look at the chandelier shining just above the couple dancing.