Chapter 218

**Summer's POV**

I froze, my hand automatically reaching for my purse. *520? That's my number, isn't it?* I fumbled with the clasp, frantically dgging through the contents. Lipstick, phone, keys... where was that damn tag?

The ballroom had gone completely silent. From across the room,I could see Victoria and Bianca frantically checking their own number tags,their faces falling in disappointment when they realized they weren't the lucky ones.

Suddenly,a commotion erupted near the stage. Elle Sinclair had practically lunged forward,snatching the red tag from Brandon's hand. Her face contorted in disbelief, all traces of her earlier poise vanishing in an instant.

"No..." I heard her gasp, loud enough for her voice to carry. "This isn't possible. It can't be..."

Brandon's expression remained impassive, though I detected a hint of amusement in his eyes. "What's not possible, Elle?" he asked coolly. "Is there something strange about this number?"

Elle seemed to realize her mistake, her eyes widening as she registered the crowd's stunned reaction to her outburst. "No, Brandon, I didn't mean-"she stammered, her voice rising with panic. "I just thought... I mean,I didn't expect..."

Brandon calmly reached out and took the tag back from her trembling fingers. "Monica," he called, his tone deliberately casual, "could you please identify who holds number 520?"

I finally found my tag at the bottom of my purse. Taking a deep breath, I raised my hand and stepped forward from the crowd. "I'm number 520," I called out, my voice clear and steadly. "Sorry for the delay-I was searching through my bag. I thought I'd forgotten to bring it."

All eyes turned to me as I held up the matching red tag. I was acutely aware of how different I looked from the other women in the room. My simple black dress with subtle white accents was practically austere compared to the glittering gowns and elaborate hairstyles surrounding me.

A murmur swept through the crowd as Monica stepped forward,peering at my tag. "It's Summer Taylor, Mr. Stark," she confirmed. "From the Projects department!"

Something flashed in Brandon's eyes-a warmth visible only to me before his professional mask slid back into place. His lips curved into a slight smile as he regarded me. "Miss Taylor, is it?"

I nodded, feeling hundreds of eyes on me. "Yes, Mr. Stark! Thank you for this opportunity."

"It seems Miss Taylor has excellent luck tonight," Brandon commented, his voice carrying easily through the room.

I couldn't help but smile. "I'm just fortunate, that's all."

Brandon turned slightly toward Leo, who was watching with an unreadable expression. "Schmidt, yourassistant is quite stunning, isn't she?"1

Leo cleared his throat. "Indeed, Mr. Stark."

The exchange was interrupted by a strangled sound from Elle. She was staring at me, her face drained of color. Her finger shot out, pointing

directly at me. "You... you're... Brandon,she,she-"

Brandon's eyes hardened for a fraction of a second, his gaze shifting deliberately to Jane Sinelair, who looked equally stunned. The color had drained from her face as she stared at me, her perfectly manicured hand frozen halfway to her mouth.

"Mother." Brandon said, his voice deceptively calm, "I think Elle is tired from hosting duties today. Perhaps you should escort her downstairs for a moment?"

Jane seemed to snap out of her trance, her eyes narrowing as she studied me with sudden intensity.

"No!" Elle shouted, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch. "Brandon, I'm not going anywhere! This woman is a home-wrecking slut! Brandon, have you forgotten? She betrayed you! How could you possibly-"

"That's enough!" Jane cut in sharply, grabbing Elle's arm. "Elle is indeed overtired. I'll take her to rest. As for the annual party... carry on without us!"

Brandon nodded once, then turned to James. "Have Desmond assign two men to follow them."

"Right away, sir," James replied instantly.

I stood frozen in place, so lost in thought that I didn't notice Brandon approaching until he was standing directly in front of me, one hand extended elegantly. "May I have the honor of this first dance, Miss Taylor?"he asked, his voice carrying just the right note of professional courtesy.

I hesitated, my mind still stuck on Elle's strange outburst. Was Elle taking me for somebody else?

"Miss Taylor?" Brandon prompted softly, his eyebrow arched slightly."Hmm?"

I snapped back to reality, placing my hand in his much larger one. "I'd be honored. Mr. Stark. Please lead the way."

All eyes were on us as we moved to the center of the dance floor. I couldn't help noticing the whispers-how despite our relatively simple attire compared to the others, we somehow looked like we belonged together.

The music began, a slow, elegant waltz. Brandon's hand settled at my waist. the heat of his palm burning through the thin fabric of my dress.With practiced ease, he guided me through the first steps,leading so skillfully that I felt as though I were floating.

"June," he murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear, "what do you think of your husband's dancing skills?"

I smiled up at him, keeping my voice equally low. "Mr. Stark certainly has a talent for surprising me in the most unexpected ways. I'm absolutely delighted!"

"So you're pleased with my surprise?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

I made a show of considering it, my lips pursed in mock seriousness."More shocked than pleased, to be honest."

"Brat," he whispered, the corner of his mouth twitching upward."I thought you'd be touched. Do you have any idea how much planning it took to make sure your number would be the one I pulled?"

"You're being incredibly obvious tonight," I pointed out, concern creeping into my voice. "After this, I'm going to be the target of every woman in this room."

"Don't worry about that," he assured me, executing a perfect turn that had us gliding across the floor. "I've already set up another distraction as a lightning rod for any potential negativity."

My eyes darted to the corner where Victoria stood watching us, her beauitiful face twisted with barely disguised hatred. "You don't mean Victoria,do you?"

"Mmm-hmm," he confirmed1, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

"I'm not sure that worked as well as you thought," I said doubtfully. "Also,what was that weird meltdown from Elle? Did she think she is the one who dances with you?"

Brandon's arm tightened around my waist. "I promise you, Elle won't be a problem for you."

"Why?" I pressed,searching his face for answers.

"You'll understand soon enough," he said cryptically. His expression softened as he guided me through another turn. "Now focus on the dance.Stop thinking about people who don't matter."

I followed his lead, allowing my body to move in perfect synchronization with his. As the music reached its crescendo, Brandon spun me once more before dipping me gracefully in his arms, ending our performance with a flourish.

The crowd burst into applause as we held the position for a moment longer than necessary. I could feel Brandon's breath warm against my neck,his arms solid and secure around me. When he finally helped me straighten, his hand lingered at my waist.

"Miss Taylor dances beautifully," he announced to the crowd, his voice

carrying that perfect blend of professional appreciation and appropriate distance.

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