Chapter 317

"Mother, please, you must calm down," Seraphina pleaded, her voice shaking as she carefully approached the furious Arabella.

"Mother, seeing you like this—it's tearing me apart. Tell me what I can do to help," Seraphina offered, her tone thick with worry.

"Help? Can you kill Valentina for me?" Arabella spat, her voice dripping with venom.

Seraphina fell silent.

"I thought when Valentina ran off with Alexander, she'd just be his dirty little secret—nothing more than a mistress with no status. But then she had that girl, that wretched little thing!"

Seraphina had to stifle a laugh. After all, hadn't Arabella herself given birth to two daughters?

"But no. Alexander spoils her! Throwing her a lavish birthday party, even commissioning Nathaniel to design her a dress! Why is she so fortunate? Why does she get to outshine me?"

Arabella's rage had turned her face a deep, mottled red, her eyes brimming with furious tears. Valentina's success only highlighted Arabella's own failures.

"Mother, staying angry won't solve anything. We need to find a way to humiliate Valentina—maybe even ruin her birthday party," Seraphina suggested, gripping Arabella's arm urgently.

Arabella clenched her jaw, snatched up her phone, and dialed a number, stepping away to take the call by the window. "Arabella, it's been a while. How have you been?"

A rough, masculine voice answered—likely belonging to a middle-aged man.

"Let's just say I've had better days," Arabella choked out, struggling to keep her voice steady.

"Is this about that woman, Valentina?"

"Who else would it be?"

"Arabella, you once did me a favor, and I haven't forgotten. Tell me what you need."

Arabella let out a quiet sob, but her eyes gleamed with something far darker than grief.

Nathaniel's custom-designed evening gown had been the centerpiece of Valentina's birthday celebration, but the night was far from over. The next event was the gift presentation.

Everyone expected Alexander to present Valentina with something extravagant—a property deed, perhaps, or rare jewels. But what he gave her was entirely unexpected.

Alexander had established a charity foundation in Valentina's name, dedicated to supporting children with disabilities. And as the final touch, Valentina herself was appointed as the foundation's chairwoman.

Isabella's heart swelled with pride. The women of the Sinclair family weren't like other socialites. They—including Alexander—had never cared for material wealth.

Compared to the most dazzling diamond in the world, this foundation was the perfect gift for Valentina, who had secretly spent years donating and volunteering to help underprivileged children.

She had done it all without the family's knowledge, believing Alexander was unaware. Little did she know, he had known all along—and had been planning this surprise for months.

"I know how much charity means to you, Valentina. You've anonymously helped so many children over the years. I thought this would be the most meaningful gift I could give you," Alexander said, his gaze tender as he took her hand.

"Alexander... how did you know?" Valentina's voice trembled on the verge of tears.

"No tears, my love. Not today."

Alexander smiled gently, brushing away a stray tear from her cheek.

"As an initial donation, I'm contributing fifty million to the foundation. I hope everyone here will join me in supporting the Valentina Foundation. On behalf of Sinclair Holdings, I thank you all in advance," Alexander announced, his commanding presence silencing the room.

A stunned hush fell before the crowd erupted into applause.

"Alexander didn't give Valentina some flashy gift—he donated fifty million to her charity. That's incredible!"

"Most high-society birthday gifts are predictable. Alexander's is not only original but meaningful. It elevates Valentina's reputation and the Sinclair family's standing. A masterstroke!"

At a nearby table, Harrison, Nathaniel, and Sebastian sat together.

"That old man," Nathaniel muttered jealously. "What kind of sorcery is he using? Why doesn't he age?"

He turned to Sebastian beside him. "Sebastian, what's your father's secret? He looks younger every year. Tell me."

"Just good lighting," Sebastian replied with a faint smile.

"Ha! I knew it!" Nathaniel leaned in eagerly. "Where does he get his makeup done? It's flawless. Can you introduce me?"

Sebastian could only sigh.

Harrison chuckled under his breath.

The Sinclair family sat at their table, clapping enthusiastically, their faces alight with joy.

Amid the celebration, Lillian found herself blinking back tears. Seeing her mother so happy and loved overwhelmed her.

"Lillian, why are you crying?" Eleanor asked softly, concern in her eyes.

"Mother, I'm just... so happy for Valentina," Lillian sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

A wave of warmth filled Eleanor as she gently stroked her daughter's silken hair.

In their large, complex family, all her children—including Isabella—called her Eleanor. Only the youngest, Lillian, still called her "Mother."

It was a small thing, but it meant the world to her.

"You should be happy," Eleanor reassured her.

"But I've always thought Father didn't have room in his heart for you," Lillian confessed, her emotions tangled. "And I'm the biggest disappointment among his children. Your daughter is destined to be the future First Lady of Helgen, my sister is a star in the design world and helps manage his hotels. And me? I can't do anything. I'm just... useless."

"Lillian, don't say that," Eleanor murmured, pulling her close. "Your father has said many times that he only wants you—the youngest Sinclair—to live freely. To him, success doesn't matter. Happiness does. And he loves you deeply. Just because he doesn't say it doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. Actions speak louder than words, don't they?"

Lillian nodded, resting her head against Eleanor's shoulder as fresh tears glistened in her eyes.

Then, the guests began presenting their gifts—each more extravagant than the last.

"Next, a gift from Mr. Adrian of the Vanderbilt Group!" the host announced.

All eyes turned to Adrian, illuminated by a spotlight.

Even Isabella glanced over, curious.

"He prepared a gift in secret?" Dominic muttered through gritted teeth. "Always trying to win favor with the Sinclairs. Always stealing the spotlight!"

"What's the point?" Oliver scoffed, swirling his wine. "Adrian's clever, but he doesn't realize he's already angered Father. The Vanderbilt Group is still under Father's control."

As predicted, Reginald did not look pleased.

His jaw tightened as he glared at Adrian.

Then, his gaze shifted to Mrs. Vanderbilt, and his lips twitched.

Adrian's gift was brought forward, and the room fell silent in anticipation.

Valentina hesitated, glancing at Alexander.

"It's a token of respect. Let's see what it is," Alexander suggested, slipping an arm around Valentina's waist as they lifted the covering cloth together.

In an instant, Alexander's expression darkened. His eyes flicked toward Adrian, unreadable.

When the guests saw the gift, gasps of awe rippled through the crowd. It was no less shocking than Nathaniel's dress.

Isabella's brows furrowed. Her pulse quickened.

Beneath the cloth was a porcelain vase—an antique so rare it could belong in a museum. At auction, it would easily fetch three million dollars.

Adrian presenting such an extravagant gift to Valentina—one that surpassed even Reginald's—was a blatant insult to his father.

Isabella shook her head. And then she realized—Sebastian was missing.

Her heart skipped a beat as she scanned the room for him.

"Valentina," Adrian began with a respectful bow, "this is my birthday gift to you—a Ming dynasty porcelain vase. May you and Chairman Alexander enjoy a long, happy, and healthy life together."

Valentina was stunned. "Mr. Adrian, this is too generous."

"It is," Alexander said lightly, though his tone carried an edge. "If I didn't know better, I'd think it was a gift for me."

Adrian adjusted his glasses, his smile unreadable.

"A Ming dynasty vase!"

"That's a million-dollar antique!"

"Adrian never attends Vanderbilt family events, yet here he is, making such a grand gesture. Remarkable!"

"But isn't it inappropriate that his gift overshadows Reginald's?"

Indeed, it was. Reginald's face had turned an alarming shade of green.

What they didn't know was that this seemingly ill-timed move was calculated. And it was only the beginning.

The Vanderbilts' troubles were just starting.

"Next, a gift from Mr. Sebastian, president of the Abernathy Group!" the host announced.