96 Chapter 99
Chapter 99 – The Centennial Stage: Exes, Rivals, and a Billionaire’s Return
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I felt my cheeks burning as Bianca’s smug face stared back at me, clearly relishing my discomfort. The group around us fell awkwardly silent.
“You didn’t miss anything about Julian,” I managed to say calmly. “That was Damien Sterling’s car, not that it’s any of your business.”
Bianca’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows shot up. “Damien Sterling? Sure it was.” Her tone dripped with disbelief. “Next you’ll tell us you’re dating him.”
Clara squeezed my arm supportively. “Actually, Bianca, they arrived together. I saw them myself.”
Bianca’s smirk faltered for just a moment before she recovered. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises, Hazel. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Sterling would be seen with someone like you.”
I bit back the sharp retort forming on my tongue. She wasn’t worth it.
“We should head to the ceremony,” I said to Clara, turning away from Bianca.
“Hazel,” Bianca called after me, “before you go, I thought you might like to know I’ve
been invited to a private dinner at Sterling Heights next week. Mrs. Sterling personally arranged it–apparently she thinks I’d be a suitable match for her son.”
That stopped me cold. I turned back slowly, trying not to show how her words had affected me.
“How nice for you,” I said flatly. “I hope you enjoy yourself.”
As Clara and I walked away, I struggled to maintain my composure. Was Bianca telling the truth? Had Damien’s mother really invited her to dinner as a potential match? The thought made my stomach twist uncomfortably.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Clara whispered. “That woman has always been
pathologically jealous of you.”
“I know,” I sighed. “It’s just…”
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My phone buzzed in my purse. Fishing it out, I saw a text from Damien:
*Meeting running longer than expected. Save me a seat?*
I smiled despite myself and typed back:
*Only if you promise to rescue me from pretentious conversations.*
His response came immediately:
*At your service, Ms. Ashworth. You look beautiful today, by the way. That blue dress is stunning.*
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I glanced around, wondering if he could see me, but there was no sign of him in the crowded plaza.
Clara peered over my shoulder. “Oh my god, he’s texting you! And complimenting your dress! This is definitely not just friends.”
I tucked my phone away, my mood lightening. “Let’s find our seats before they fill up.”
The main ceremony was held in the grand hall, transformed with elegant decorations and filled to capacity with alumni, faculty, and honored guests. Clara and I found seats near the middle, and I carefully placed my purse on the chair next to me to save it for
Damien.
The university president took the stage, welcoming everyone to the centennial celebration. As she spoke about the institution’s legacy, I found myself scanning the crowd for Julian, dreading an encounter but wanting to be prepared.
“Looking for someone?” Clara asked.
“Just making sure Julian isn’t nearby,” I admitted.
“Speak of the devil,” Clara muttered, nodding toward the side entrance.
Julian had just walked in, surrounded by what looked like business associates. He hadn’t seen me yet, but my heart still raced at the sight of him. Not from any lingering affection, but from the anger that still simmered whenever I laid eyes on him.
“Breathe,” Clara reminded me. “Don’t let him ruin today.”
The ceremony continued with various speakers celebrating the university’s achievements. When Damien was announced as a distinguished alumnus being
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honored for his contributions, the audience erupted in applause.
He walked onto the stage with quiet confidence, looking impeccable in the bespoke suit I’d designed for him. Pride swelled in my chest–not just at seeing my creation on such a public stage, but at knowing the man wearing it.
“Sterling Industries is pleased to announce a donation of 1.5 billion dollars to establish the Sterling Institute for Advanced Technology,” he said, his voice clear and commanding.
Gasps rippled through the audience. Even I was stunned by the amount.
“My time at this university shaped my vision for the future,” Damien continued. “It’s my hope that this institute will provide opportunities for the next generation of
innovators.”
As applause thundered through the hall, Clara nudged me. “Did you know about this?”
I shook my head, speechless. The sheer magnitude of his wealth and influence still sometimes took me by surprise.
After Damien left the stage, the president announced other significant donors. Julian’s name was called for his contribution of 100 million–an impressive sum that nonetheless paled in comparison to Damien’s gift.
What happened next caught everyone by surprise. Damien returned to the stage to present Julian with his donor recognition plaque.
“On behalf of the university,” Damien said smoothly as Julian approached, clearly uncomfortable, “I’d like to thank Mr. Grayson for his generosity.”
Their handshake was brief, and I could see Julian’s forcéd smile even from where I sat. The power dynamic was unmistakable–Damien, the billion–dollar donor, presenting an award to Julian, whose contribution suddenly seemed modest by comparison.
When the ceremony concluded, Damien found his way to our row.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, settling into the seat I’d saved.
“Your donation was quite the surprise,” I said, still processing the figure.
He shrugged lightly. “Education has always been important to me.”
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Clara eagerly introduced herself, and I watched in amusement as she barely contained her excitement at meeting him.
As we filed out of the hall toward the garden reception, I texted Victoria:
*You won’t believe this–Damien just donated 1.5 BILLION to our university. And he’s wearing my suit!*
Her response came quickly:
*Work that sugar daddy connection, girl! And PICS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN!*
I laughed out loud, earning a curious look from Damien.
“Victoria,” I explained, showing him the message.
A smile played at his lips. “Your friend has a unique way with words.”
At the reception, we mingled with various alumni and faculty. I noticed people watching us, whispering behind their hands. Being seen with Damien clearly elevated my social status in this crowd.
“I should congratulate Julian on his donation,” Damien suddenly remarked, eyes fixed across the garden.
“Is that necessary?” I asked, tensing.
“Good optics,” he replied simply. “Care to join me?”
Before I could decline, he gently guided me toward where Julian stood surrounded by
admirers.
Julian’s smile froze when he saw us approaching. “Sterling. Hazel. What a surprise.”
“Congratulations on your donation, Grayson,” Damien said smoothly. “Very generous.”
“Thank you,” Julian replied stiffly. “Though it seems modest compared to yours.”
“Every contribution matters,” Damien countered, his hand resting casually at the small of my back.
I felt Julian’s eyes flick to that point of contact, his jaw tightening.
“Hazel,” Julian said, addressing me directly. “You look well.”
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“I am well,” I replied coolly
The tension between us was palpable until Damien skillfully extracted us from the conversation, leading me toward the refreshments.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked quietly.
“I suppose not,” I admitted. “Though I still wanted to throw my drink in his face.”
“Save that for a less public setting,” he suggested, the corner of his mouth lifting in
amusement.
The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly, with Damien rarely leaving my side. When we finally headed to the evening banquet and fashion show, I felt more relaxed than I’d expected to be at such a high–profile event where both Damien and Julian were in
attendance.
The banquet hall was transformed into a glamorous venue, with a runway set up for the fashion show featuring alumni designers–including me. I’d submitted one of my favorite designs, a sleek evening gown that would be modeled in the show.
“Nervous?” Damien asked as we took our seats at a table near the front.
“A little,” I confessed. “It’s been a while since I’ve had my work in a show.”
He took my hand under the table, his thumb brushing soothingly across my knuckles. “They’ll love it.”
As the lights dimmed and the show began, I found myself entranced by the parade of designs from my fellow alumni. When my gown finally appeared, a gasp went through the audience, followed by enthusiastic applause.
“That’s yours?” Damien whispered, looking genuinely impressed.
I nodded, unable to speak through the emotion clogging my throat. The recognition
felt sweeter than I’d anticipated.
Just as I was savoring this moment of professional pride, a commotion at the entrance caught my attention. Bianca had arrived, fashionably late and drawing all eyes to her. She scanned the room imperiously before spotting our table.
With purposeful strides, she approached, dragging a reluctant–looking Julian by the
arm.
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“There you are!” she exclaimed, as though we’d been expecting her. “Julian, come, sit
here!”
Before I could object, she had pushed Julian into the empty seat right beside me, her triumphant smile making it clear this was no coincidence.
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