---- Chapter 12 Anya Warner POV: Every eye in the place was on me as | descended the staircase. A wave of whispers rippled through the crowd, a mixture of shock, confusion, and dawning realization. | saw faces | recognized from business magazines and society pages, their expressions shifting from polite curiosity to slack-jawed astonishment. Anya Alexander. Hamilton Glass's disgraced ex. The ghost developer. Here. As Fred Warner's daughter. The pieces were clicking into place in their minds, and the picture they formed was a scandalous, delicious masterpiece. My gaze swept over the crowd and landed on Hamilton. His face was a deathly white, as if he'd seen a ghost. And in his world, | was one. Kacey, clinging to his arm, looked like her carefully constructed world was imploding. Her eyes, wide with disbelief, were filled with a venomous hatred that was almost comical. | reached the bottom of the stairs, and my father was there to take my arm, his presence a solid, unshakeable anchor. Kacey recovered first. Plastering a sickly-sweet smile on her face, she detached herself from Hamilton and glided towards me. ---- "Anya! Darling!" she gushed, taking my hands in hers. Her grip was surprisingly strong, her nails digging into my skin. "We were so worried about you! To disappear like that... and pregnant, too! We thought something terrible had happened." Her eyes flickered down to my stomach, then back to my face, her expression a perfect blend of fake concern and pity. "You must have been so lonely, all by yourself." The 'all by yourself' was a deliberate jab, a reminder that Hamilton had chosen her. | smiled, a calm, serene expression that | knew would infuriate her more than any anger. "Thank you for your concern, Kacey," | said, my voice purposefully light and airy. | gently extracted my hands from her grasp. "But as you can see, | was never alone. | was with my family." | let the word 'family' hang in the air, a stark contrast to her position as the new wife, the outsider who had clawed her way in. Her smile faltered. "Well, Hamilton has been beside himself," she pressed on, trying to reclaim control. "He's barely slept. He felt so responsible for your... fragile state." "Fragile?" | let out a soft laugh. "Oh, darling, you must be mistaken. I've never felt stronger." My eyes met hers, cold and direct. "By the way, congratulations on the wedding. It must be such a relief to finally have something of your own, instead of just picking up my leftovers." ---- Her face went from pale to a blotchy, furious red. The whispers around us grew louder. Hamilton finally broke out of his stupor. He pushed through the crowd and grabbed my arm, his grip desperate. "Anya," he rasped, his eyes wild. "We need to talk. This is all a mistake. The baby... our baby..." Before he could finish, two of my father's security guards materialized, smoothly and firmly breaking his hold on me. "Sir, 'm going to have to ask you to step back," one of them said, his voice polite but unyielding. Kacey saw her opportunity. She burst into theatrical tears. "How could you, Anya?" she wailed, pointing an accusing finger at my belly. "Showing up here, flaunting your... your illegitimate child! Trying to ruin my marriage! Hamilton is a married man!" The accusation hung in the air, thick and ugly. The crowd, which had been buzzing with my shocking revelation, now focused on my pregnancy. The term 'illegitimate child' was a calculated strike, designed to shame me, to paint me as a homewrecker. | felt a flash of the old pain, the familiar sting of being judged and found wanting. | instinctively placed a protective hand over my baby. Then, my father' s voice cut through the drama like a ---- thunderclap. "Illegitimate?" he boomed, stepping in front of me, a towering wall of paternal rage. He turned his thunderous gaze on Kacey, who visibly shrank back. "This child carries the blood of the Warner family. This child is the heir to my entire fortune. There is nothing 'illegitimate' about them." He then turned his icy glare on Hamilton. "And you," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "You will never refer to my grandchild as 'your baby' again. You forfeited that right when you left their mother to be tortured by your enemies." He let that sink in, the accusation of torture sending a fresh wave of horrified gasps through the audience. Then, he faced the crowd, his voice resonating with power and authority. "Let me be perfectly clear to everyone here tonight. This is my daughter, Anya Warner. She is the sole, legal heir to my name and my company. And the child she carries is the future of my legacy. Anyone who dares to harm or disrespect either of them will answer to me. And | assure you, you will not like my answer." The silence in the room was absolute. The power shift was complete. | was no longer the other woman, the shadow, the mistake. | was the princess, and this was my kingdom. Hamilton stared at me, his face a mask of utter despair. He finally understood. He hadn't just lost a girlfriend. He had lost an empire. He had lost a future he never even knew he was ---- entitled to. My father, his point made, turned back to me, his expression softening. "Come, my dear," he said, his voice gentle once again. "It's time for the guest of honor to cut her birthday cake. We shouldn't waste our time on... insignificant people." He offered me his arm. | took it, and together, we walked away, leaving Hamilton and Kacey standing alone in the wreckage of their hollow victory. | didn't look back.