Chapter 4She Bankrupted Her Own Family

Ethan’s fingers clamped around my wrist like a vice.

He didn't shout. His face remained a masterclass in polite, corporate restraint. But that icy, quiet cruelty was precisely what made his rejection so suffocating.

"Let go," I said softly, looking down at his hand.

"Iris, don't throw a tantrum now," Ethan hissed, his eyes hardening behind his lenses. "Nancy was just humiliated by Mr. Pierce. The family is walking on razor-thin ice. If you cause a scene here and drag us into a feud with the Pierce Dynasty..."

He paused, delivering his ultimatum with chilling detachment.

"Even if Mother tries to defend you, I will personally take out a full-page ad in the national papers declaring you have no affiliation with this family."

I looked at my biological brother.

In his calculated ledger of profits and losses, I was nothing more than an expendable asset to be liquidated at the first sign of trouble.

"Mr. Bradford, what are you doing back there?"

Before I could answer, the master of ceremonies took the stage with a microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we now invite Mr. Richard Bradford, Chairman of the Bradford Group, to say a few words!"

Ethan released my wrist with a final sneer. "Get out through the service door," he muttered before turning on his heel to rejoin the family table.

Up on the stage, Richard had already recovered his genial, statesman-like persona.

Taking the mic, his eyes swept over the glittering crowd, settling warmly on Nancy and Austin.

"Thank you all for joining us tonight," Richard began, his tone deep and resonant. "Taking advantage of this wonderful gathering, I would like to share a joyous piece of personal news regarding our family."

The room hushed, all eyes fixed on the podium.

"My daughter, Nancy, has battled frail health since childhood," Richard said, his expression softening with paternal affection. "Fortunately, she has found someone willing to cherish and protect her for the rest of her days. Tonight, I am thrilled to officially announce..."

He raised his voice, letting it echo through the state-of-the-art sound system.

"The Bradford and Thorne families are uniting. The engagement gala for Nancy and Austin will be held on the eighth of next month!"

Applause erupted across the ballroom.

Down in the front row, Eleanor wiped a tear of joy from her eye. Nancy covered her face, weeping softly against Austin’s chest.

Austin leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. Then, across the sea of clapping elites, his eyes locked onto mine in the dim corner.

He didn't walk over. Instead, he summoned an assistant and whispered a quick command.

A moment later, the assistant appeared before my cocktail table, holding out a pale blue check.

"Miss Iris Bradford," the assistant said, his respectful tone laced with mockery. "Mr. Thorne says that now that the merger is public, any childhood verbal betrothals made by past generations are officially null and void. Miss Nancy's condition requires absolute security, and Mr. Thorne refuses to risk her peace of mind."

He extended the check closer.

"This is a personal settlement of five million dollars from Mr. Thorne. He expects you to take this money, keep your head down, and cause no further trouble."

I stared at the slip of paper.

Did they honestly believe this would crush me?

No. It was just laughably pathetic.

"A settlement?" I didn't take the check. Leaning back against the tall chair, a slow, mocking smile touched my lips. "Go tell Austin Thorne..."

I paused, letting my gaze drift across the room.

"...that his pathetic little life isn't worth five million dollars."

The assistant stiffened, his face twisting in disgust, clearly writing off my words as the desperate ravings of a cast-off woman.

Before he could force the check into my hands, the room shifted.

"BZZZZT—!"

The colossal LED screen behind the main stage suddenly emitted a deafening screech of electronic feedback.

The promotional video of Riverport’s skyline abruptly cut to black.

In the next second, the live trading terminal for the Bradford Group on the New York Stock Exchange flashed across the massive display.

Cascades of crimson numbers began plummeting off a cliff.

"-10%."

"-25%."

"-45%!"

In less than thirty seconds, before the eyes of the entire city's financial elite, the Bradford Group’s market valuation went into a catastrophic, vertical free-fall.

"What... what is happening?!" Richard’s voice cracked violently over the live microphone.

The ballroom erupted into chaos.

Highballs and champagne flutes clattered onto tables as guests stared at the screen in absolute horror.

"The Bradford liquidity pool just vanished!"

"Who the hell is shorting their entire float with that kind of capital?!"

Ethan bolted from his seat, his composed mask shattering as he frantically dialed his chief financial officer, only to be met with a dead busy tone.

Austin’s brow furrowed sharply, his arm dropping away from Nancy’s waist.

And right as the Bradford family plunged into an icy abyss of panic, the young man who had been resting his eyes at the head VIP table suddenly sat up.

Holden Pierce didn't look at the screen.

His sharp, predatory gaze swept across the chaos of the ballroom like a laser—until it locked dead-center onto the shadowed, forgotten corner near the service doors.

Onto me.

"Holy shit!"

The terrifying, untouchable scion of the Pierce Dynasty jumped out of his leather armchair like a startled cat.

He knocked over his Baccarat crystal glass, sending vintage red wine splashing across the white linen.

Under the shocked, petrified stares of Riverport’s most powerful figures, Holden shoved his own security detail aside and sprinted toward my dark corner as if his life depended on it.

His entire frame trembled with wild, frantic reverence.

"My lady!"