Chapter 24

Summer's POV

"Careful, Richard." Grandpa George's voice carried the kind of authority that could silence a boardroom. "Remember whose house this is. Is this how you speak to my granddaughter? Is this how you treat your own child?"

The tension in the air thickened as Father's face darkened. "Father, you don't understand—"

"Oh, I understand perfectly." Grandpa's grip on my arm tightened protectively. "I understand that you've forgotten what it means to be a father. That you've chosen to sacrifice one daughter's happiness for another's ambition."

Victoria's perfect smile faltered for a moment. "Grandpa, please. We only want what's best for everyone. Summer is just being... difficult."

"Difficult?" The word dropped from Grandpa's lips like ice. "Some things, once tainted, should be discarded. Like trust. Like family loyalty." His eyes fixed on Victoria and Alexander with unmistakable disappointment.

A sudden hush fell over the room. The kind of silence that spreads like a wave, pulling everyone's attention toward the entrance. Brandon Stark stood in the doorway, a distinguished figure in a custom-tailored suit that whispered of old money and absolute power. Everything about him radiated a commanding presence—from the perfect cut of his clothes to the quiet authority in his bearing. James followed two steps behind, carrying an elegantly wrapped box.

What is he doing here? My mind raced. Sure, he was Grandpa’s former student, but this was a private Taylor family event.

The whispers started immediately, rippling through the crowd:

"Brandon Stark?" "The CEO of Stark Group..." "I didn't know the Taylors had that kind of connection."

I watched Victoria's hand tighten on Alexander's arm. "Darling," she whispered, her voice carrying in the hushed room, "you never mentioned this Mr. Stark before."

The way Brandon completely ignored Alexander's presence spoke volumes. Alexander's expression shifted through several emotions before settling into something carefully neutral. "Brandon Stark. He's... family."

"The Brandon Stark?" Victoria's eyes widened. "One of Wall Street's Four Kings?"

I noticed how Alexander's posture changed—he seemed to shrink in Brandon's presence. The realization brought a subtle smile to my lips. Interesting. The mighty Alexander Stark, silenced by a single look.

James approached with smooth efficiency, presenting the package to Grandpa with a respectful bow. "Mr. Taylor, Mr. Brandon Stark sends his warmest birthday wishes."

"Summer," Grandpa's voice carried a hint of amusement, "would you do the honors?"

I helped unwrap the gift. The moment the lid came off, I felt my breath catch. It was the exquisite silver chess set from Christie's, each piece gleaming with quiet dignity.

"My word," Grandpa breathed, his eyes lighting up with genuine delight. "This is from the British Royal Collection, isn't it?"

Old Mr. Stark materialized at our side, his smile a touch too eager. "Brandon! What a pleasant surprise. Alexander, aren't you going to greet your uncle properly?"

I watched Alexander approach Brandon with careful steps. "Uncle Brandon. We... we didn't know you were coming."

Brandon's dark eyes swept over Alexander with casual indifference before finding mine. The intensity of his gaze was steady and supportive. That chess set... he knew exactly how much Grandpa would love it.

"Mr. Stark," Grandpa's voice was warm. "That's too kind of you. You must join us for a game later."

Brandon's lips curved into a rare, enigmatic smile. "It would be my pleasure, Professor."

Victoria, sensing the shift in attention, turned to me with a glint of competition in her eyes. "Summer, darling, what did you get for Grandpa? I do hope it's not something... ordinary."

I stepped forward, retrieving the box from my bag. "Grandpa? Would you like to open your gift now?"

"From my favorite granddaughter? Of course!"

I ignored Victoria’s scoff as Grandpa unwrapped the Christie’s box. His eyes widened as he lifted out the fountain pen.

"Oh, just a pen?" Victoria's voice dripped with false sympathy. "How... practical."

"Actually," James's smooth voice cut through the tension, "I believe I recognize that piece. It’s a rare collector's item from Christie's. Quite a coincidence—Mr. Stark had his eye on it as well."

A ripple of interest swept through the crowd. I caught Brandon watching the scene, his expression unreadable but his support undeniable.

"Christie's?" Mother's voice shifted to a more calculating tone. "Summer, darling, you didn't mention..."

Grandpa was examining the pen with obvious delight. "Summer, this is magnificent. But it must have cost—"

"The price doesn't matter," I said quickly. "I just wanted you to have something you'd truly use and cherish."

The evening eventually became suffocating. I slipped away to the gardens, seeking refuge among the roses. The cool air was a welcome relief. All these years, was this how they really saw me? A burden? A disappointment?

"Alone out here?"

The deep voice made me jump. Brandon stood a few feet away, his tall frame silhouetted against the garden lights. Even in the shadows, his presence was profound.

"Mr. Stark?" I took an instinctive step back, my heels clicking on the stone path. "What are you doing here?"