Glasses clinked, champagne sparkled under the soft chandelier lights, and the scent of sweet desserts drifted through the air. Laughter echoed across the elegant event hall as guests mingled in celebration of Mr. Holloway's birthday.
"Happy birthday, Mr. Holloway," Alexandra greeted warmly as she stepped up beside Stacy's father, offering a respectful hug.
"Thank you, Alex," Richard said, his smile tight but genuine. "It's good to see you here tonight."
He paused for a moment, studying her. "I've been meaning to say... you've done impressive work stepping in for your father. With him on medical leave, I wasn't sure how things would hold up—but you've proven yourself more than capable."
Alexandra offered a modest smile. "Thank you. I've just been trying to keep things steady while he recovers."
Richard nodded, his tone thoughtful. "You haven't just kept things steady—you've led with precision. Calm under pressure. Strategic. You didn't just inherit his name, Alex... you inherited his instincts."
Her expression softened, touched. "That means a lot, Mr. Holloway. Really."
"I meant it. Your father built something solid with me, and I see the same foundation in you. This company—our legacy—it's in good hands."
He gave her a rare, approving nod, then glanced toward a small group of suited men across the room. "Excuse me a moment. Looks like the board vultures are circling again."
Alexandra chuckled lightly, watching him walk away, the weight of his words lingering in her chest—both a compliment and, perhaps, something more.
Just as Alexandra turned toward the dessert table, Zoe approached, a confident sparkle in her eyes.
"Hey, Alex. You look stunning tonight," Zoe greeted, raising her glass slightly.
Alexandra smiled. "Well, look who's talking. You clean up very well, Zoe." She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "If Stacy has her way, I doubt this party will last long before she drags you off somewhere."
Zoe laughed, her eyes drifting toward Stacy, who stood across the room in an elegant black dress, deep in conversation with a family friend.
"Honestly? I was thinking I'd be the one dragging her away tonight. Look at her—she's practically glowing."
Alexandra followed Zoe's gaze, then smirked. "Can't blame you. She does have that look—the 'dangerously gorgeous and slightly distracted by love' look."
"Exactly. I mean, how am I supposed to behave when she looks like that?"
"Who said anything about behaving?" Alexandra said with a wink, and the two shared a quiet laugh.
-
Meanwhile, across the room...
Stacy finally spotted her father standing near the balcony, a glass of whiskey in hand, watching the room with the quiet scrutiny of a man who measured everything in potential and legacy.
She approached with a polite smile and leaned in to kiss his cheek.
"Happy birthday, Dad."
Richard gave a stiff nod, a flicker of a smile crossing his face. "Thank you."
His eyes didn't quite meet hers. Instead, he took another sip and looked back toward the crowd.
"Another year older," he said. "Still waiting to see the next generation step up."
Stacy raised a brow, already sensing where this was going. "I'm right here, aren't I?"
He finally looked at her, expression unreadable. "You are. But no one runs a company like this alone. Sooner or later, you'll need a partner who understands the business—someone who can carry the weight with you."
Stacy's smile faltered slightly. "So this isn't about marriage. It's about succession."
He nodded, completely unapologetic. "Marriage is succession, Stacy. At least in families like ours."
Before she could respond, her mother joined them, offering a plate of truffles and a forced smile.
"Oh, don't start all that tonight," she said, giving Richard a pointed look. "It's his birthday. He gets sentimental in his own... strategic way."
Stacy gave a tight smile. "Yeah. Nothing says fatherly love like choosing my 'partner' based on their resume."
Her father didn't react. He just turned back to the party, scanning the room for the next deal, the next ally, the next move.
And in that moment, Stacy realized something:
He wasn't waiting to walk her down the aisle.
He was waiting to hand her off to someone he trusted more than her.
-
As the party went on, the atmosphere in the grand hall was still warm and joyful. Guests danced to the gentle rhythm of jazz, glasses of champagne sparkled beneath the chandeliers, and soft laughter filled the air.
Zoe stood near the dessert table, a plate in hand, sneaking glances at Stacy across the room. Alexandra had drifted off to speak to one of the board members, leaving Zoe momentarily alone—but content. Everything felt right, finally. She was with the woman she loved. No fights, no misunderstandings.
Just then, Richard Holloway stepped onto the small stage at the front of the hall, tapping a spoon gently against his glass. The room began to quiet as the clinking sound drew attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please," Richard called, his voice warm but commanding.
The music faded, and all eyes turned to him.
"Before we let the night slip away, I'd like to take a moment for something... special." He smiled proudly, motioning with his hand. "Stacy, Alexandra—come join me up here."
Stacy, confused but obedient, made her way through the crowd, sharing a glance with Alexandra, who looked equally puzzled. They both stepped up beside Richard on the platform.
Zoe watched with a raised brow from across the room, the dessert in her hand suddenly forgotten.
"Now, as many of you know, our families go way back—partners in life and business. Alexandra's father and I built this company from the ground up, and it has always been our dream to see the next generation carry that legacy forward."
He paused, letting the moment stretch, smiling wider now.
"So tonight, I'm proud to announce—" he turned slightly toward the women beside him, "the engagement of my daughter Stacy... to Alexandra."
The room fractured into stunned gasps. A few guests whispered in disbelief; others simply froze—then, slowly, tentative claps broke the silence, spreading through the crowd until applause filled the room.
Zoe's heart stopped.
Alexandra looked at Richard like he'd grown a second head. "What?!"
And then—
"What the hell are you talking about, Dad?" Stacy's voice rang out, sharp and disbelieving.
Richard blinked, then chuckled—like she'd misunderstood a harmless joke.
"Come on, Stacy. Don't be dramatic. This is what's best for everyone."
Her breath caught, chest tightening. She took a step back, staring at him like he was a stranger.
"No," she said, her voice trembling but steady. "This is what's best for you. And your company. Don't pretend that's the same thing."
Her voice rose—cutting, clear—and the room seemed to hold its breath. Glasses hovered mid-air. Conversations died. Eyes turned.
"This isn't the 1800s," she said, her voice ringing across the room. "You don't get to trade your daughter like she's part of a business deal."
Silence, heavy and electric. A few guests shifted uncomfortably. Some looked away. Others stared, too stunned to blink.
Richard's smile vanished. His face tightened.
"This isn't just about you, Stacy. This is about legacy. Our family. Our future. You and Alexandra—"
"—are not in love," Stacy cut him off, her tone icy. "You're not marrying for us; you're marrying us off for control. For power. For image. You're using Alexandra like a pawn—and me too."
Alexandra took a small step back, lips parting as if to speak, but Richard barreled on.
"You think love is enough? That some... office romance with your designer is more important than the future of Holloway and Brand? Grow up, Stacy."
That hit her like a slap.
Of course he knew. Like he ever misses anything.
Stacy's face flushed, her hands clenched at her sides.
"Don't you dare talk about Zoe like that. She's not just my designer—she's the woman I love. And she's the only one in this room who's never tried to control me."
"Love?" Richard scoffed bitterly. "You're throwing away your name, your inheritance, everything we built—for some infatuation with a woman who has nothing to offer you but emotional chaos and career suicide?"
Zoe stood frozen in place, tears stinging her eyes—but Stacy didn't even blink.
"You're wrong, Dad. She gave me the strength to stop being your puppet. She gave me the courage to live my life—not the life you keep shoving down my throat."
Richard stepped toward her now, furious. "You walk out with her tonight? Don't you ever come back. Not to this family. Not to this company. You'll be done. Both of you."
Stacy's voice dropped—quiet, but burning with fire.
"Then I guess this is goodbye. Because I'd rather lose everything... than lose myself."
She stepped down off the stage, walked straight to Zoe, who had tears welling in her eyes.
"Come on, Zo. Let's go."
Zoe didn't hesitate.
Whispers and judgment filled the room. Alexandra stood in stunned silence, not moving a muscle.
And together, they walked through the room of shocked executives, disapproving relatives, and silent onlookers.
Stacy's voice was low but steady as they reached the doors. "He'll see eventually. Or he won't. But I'm not living someone else's version of my life."
Zoe squeezed her hand. "You didn't just choose me... you chose yourself."
They stepped out into the night, heels clicking on the pavement, hearts pounding—but finally free.