All eyes turned as the great doors of the Ulrick Corporation's anniversary gala swung open. Conversation died instantly, leaving only the echo of footsteps as Adriel entered with Eren at his side.
For a moment, the grand ballroom seemed to hold its breath. Tyler and James froze, disbelief etched on their faces. From across the room, Akira and Laylah exchanged a knowing smile—the kind that said finally.
Eren felt the weight of a hundred stares press against him. His chest tightened, and for a fleeting second he considered bolting back into the shadows. But his feet refused to obey. His fingers dug into Adriel's arm instead, clutching him like a lifeline. The Alpha's warm hand covered his, steady and sure. A gentle squeeze—silent reassurance—told Eren he wasn't alone.
Step by step, they moved forward. The polished marble seemed to tilt beneath Eren's feet, vertigo tugging at him, but Adriel's presence anchored him. Whispers stirred in their wake—colleagues questioning his bold turquoise suit, speculating in hushed voices about why the president had chosen him.
And then the whispers grew sharper. Their eyes weren't just on Eren. They were on the brooch glinting proudly against his lapel.
"You're wearing that," Guiller remarked, his voice low but carrying, gaze fixed on the crimson diamond at Eren's chest.
James stepped forward, his tone cutting. "Did you give him permission, Adriel? That brooch is a family heirloom. It doesn't belong on an outsider." His eyes flicked to Eren, cold and assessing. "Looking fashionable doesn't grant you the right to wear Ulrick history."
Eren's throat tightened. He resisted the urge to shrink back, but the heat of judgment pressed in on all sides.
Guiller's wife's smile was thin, almost sweet. "Tell me, Eren—you work for Ulrick Jewels, don't you? Then surely you know what that piece is." Her eyes gleamed with challenge. "The Crimson Fate. The very beginning of Ulrick's legacy."
Eren's breath caught. Of course, he knew. He had admired the Crimson Fate since he was a boy, memorizing every line of its design in catalogues, dreaming one day he might work close enough to touch it. Now it burned against him like both honor and accusation.
And standing there under the crushing scrutiny of the Ulrick family, one truth hit him with dizzying clarity: he wasn't just being tested for how he wore the brooch—he was being judged for whether he was worthy of standing at Adriel's side at all.
The Crimson Fate rested against Eren's chest, heavy as both metal and meaning. The oval red diamond blazed like a captured ember, its fire sharpened by the intricate white-gold setting that framed it. Smaller stones shimmered in delicate patterns around the gem, a lace of brilliance that drew every eye in the room.
It was not simply jewelry. Everyone present knew its name. The Crimson Fate. The piece that had built Ulrick Jewels into an empire. A legend whispered about in glossy magazines and business circles alike, now glinting boldly on the lapel of an Omega who, by every measure of tradition, had no claim to it.
Eren's throat tightened. The weight of the heirloom was more than physical—it pressed into him like expectation, like judgment. His heart hammered with the urge to flee, yet his hand stayed wrapped around Adriel's arm, steadying himself on the Alpha's quiet strength.
Across the hall, Bernard's eyes narrowed. "You brought that tonight?" His voice was sharp enough to slice through the murmurs.
Adriel didn't flinch. "It's the perfect night for it," he said smoothly, his tone carrying the authority of someone who expected no contradiction.
Bernard's gaze flicked to Eren, his mouth tightening. "But why—"
"You don't have to understand," Adriel cut in, the dismissal clean, his hand briefly squeezing Eren's shoulder as if to stake his claim before the room.
Heat crawled up Eren's neck. Every whisper, every stare dug into him like thorns. He could scent the skepticism in the air—sharp, biting. For a moment, he wished the jewel would disappear, wished he could vanish with it. Yet beneath the shame was something else: a spark of defiance. He had dreamed of Ulrick Jewels since boyhood. He knew every story, every design, every line of craft. He was no imposter.
Before the tension could sharpen further, Roen appeared at Adriel's side, leaning close to murmur something urgent.
Adriel inclined his head, then turned back to Eren with a smile that softened the steel in his eyes. "I need to go up." His voice was low, meant only for Eren. "Stay here. I'll be back soon."
With that, he released him and mounted the stage. The crowd shifted instantly, falling into reverent silence as Adriel took the microphone. His presence filled the room with effortless command, his words rolling out with practiced ease. Applause and admiration followed each phrase.
Eren, left among the whispers, touched the Crimson Fate with trembling fingers. Its fire pulsed against him, impossible to ignore. Was it destiny—or a burden meant to test whether he truly belonged at Adriel's side?
Eren watched Adriel on the stage with quiet pride. The Alpha's presence radiated authority, his voice carrying through the hall with effortless command. The nerves that had knotted in Eren's stomach earlier began to unravel, replaced by a sense of awe that he tried—and failed—to hide.
"Stay close," Laylah murmured warmly as she and Akira drifted to his side. Their casual chatter and easy smiles formed a protective buffer against the weight of curious eyes. For a few moments, Eren could almost breathe normally again.
But across the room, Tyler and James lingered like storm clouds, their gazes sharp and unrelenting. Eren felt their scrutiny even as servers weaved through the crowd with trays of champagne and delicacies, the clink of crystal and the rich aroma of food mocking his unease.
When Adriel's family moved off toward the front, Tyler finally closed the distance. His expression was all teeth and venom.
"That brooch doesn't make you an Ulrick," he said low, so only Eren could hear. "You think wearing it gives you a place here? You'll never belong. And Adriel—he's too blinded by you to see it."
The words sliced sharper than any jeweled cut. Heat surged up Eren's neck; his pulse thundered in his ears. Instinct screamed at him to bare his throat, to fold under the Alpha's sneer. But another voice inside—stubborn, fragile, his own—refused.
"I didn't ask for any of this," Eren said, his voice steady though his hands trembled at his sides. "I didn't want to be here tonight." He turned away, choosing retreat over pointless claws.
Behind him, Tyler's laughter was soft and cruel, following him like a shadow.
On the stage, Adriel's voice rose, announcing the launch of the Ulrick Jewels design competition. The audience hung on every word. Eren stood at the edges of the crowd, the Crimson Fate heavy against his chest, its fire daring him to believe he could carry it—daring him to believe he belonged.