The silence did not dissolve immediately. It stretched like a fabric that was pulled too tight.
"My wife."
The words echoed longer than applause ever could. The ballroom shifted—not loudly, not chaotically—but perceptibly.
Investors leaned toward one another. Board members exchanged glances. Phones were discreetly checked beneath tables.
No one had anticipated this tonight. Not at a celebration or after a contract victory. Not when the room was still adjusting to Roux Capital's new position. And certainly not Ethan Wolfe's uncles.
Adolf's expression did not crumble. It hardened. Beside him, his brother's hand tightened around his glass. Public.
That was the problem. If Ethan had married quietly, it would have been maneuverable. Containable.
But this?
