"The king of darkness"? More like "the king of hell." The moment the lights came back on, the entrance filled with bodyguards forming two lines, heads bowed as if waiting for an emperor to enter.
Everyone's heart was in their mouth, certain that this time, second Bradford had truly arrived. Olivia felt her heart leap. It was as though she were standing on thin ice. She felt so nervous. Her mysterious husband was finally here.
After a few seconds that felt like centuries to many, a man in a black, European-cut suit walked in, and beside him stood a woman in a white suit that made her stand out among the sea of dinner gowns. To the people in the hall, the man's jet-black hair looked like something out of a painting of Lucifer himself, dark and immaculate, as if it had never once dared to fall out of place. He moved like a beautiful devil come to collect souls he hadn't even asked for. His grey eyes held a quiet, unreadable depth, the kind that made people feel seen and unsettled in the same breath, while the rest of him, the sharp line of his jaw, the deceptively lazy set of his shoulders, seemed built purely to undo composure. His waist was lean, his legs long and unhurried in their stride, and everything about him carried the effortless precision of something designed rather than born. His face alone could make a woman die without regrets. He stood on an entirely different level from the three men the women had been swooning over earlier, yet for all his beauty, there was something untouchable in him, a coldness that turned admiration into something closer to reverence. He looked less like a man to be desired and more like a masterpiece kept behind glass: look, but never touch.
The woman beside him wasn't overshadowed by his aura either. She carried herself like a ruler, someone with the natural ability to command a room. She looked like a rose, beautiful, but lined with thorns. To many watching, the two of them looked strikingly well matched.
They strolled into the hall as though it were their own garden. They didn't walk hand in hand, but to everyone watching, they looked like a couple ready to take on the world.
After a long silence, the hall erupted in whispers. "Amazed" wasn't even the right word anymore; people were flabbergasted.
Was this the "imbecile" second Bradford? Shame on everyone who had ever called him that. Shame on those who'd called him a retard. Shame, really, on the world itself.
Second Bradford strolled leisurely to the Great Elder's side.
"Good evening, Grandpa," he said calmly, his voice alone enough to captivate every woman in the hall. It suited his face perfectly.
"Is that how you greet your grandfather?" the Great Elder replied, reaching out to tap his back. He wished he could hug this grandson of his, but he couldn't bring himself to.
Second Bradford tapped his grandfather's back in return. To others, the man was the Great Elder, but to him, he was simply a grandfather who missed his grandson. After their greeting, the young woman beside second Bradford greeted the elder.
"Good evening, Great Elder," she said in her soothing voice.
"Good evening, Amalia. I've been expecting you," the Great Elder responded warmly.
"I ran into some delay on the way," Amalia replied, without elaborating further, which led the people listening to assume she meant the same delay that had held up second Bradford.
After the brief exchange between Amalia and the elder, a little young lady ran straight into second Bradford's arms.
"Brother!" Tasse shouted, hugging him tightly. "I missed you so much, second brother," she continued, refusing to let go.
"I missed you too, Tasse," he responded, his voice softening as he rubbed her head.
"Okay, okay, that's enough hugging, let him greet the others," the Great Elder said, a flicker of jealousy in his voice that Tasse got to hug second Bradford when he couldn't.
Hearing her grandfather's voice, Tasse released him and pouted. Charmed by how cute she looked, Alexander rubbed her head again, as if she were still a baby.
"Good evening, Mother," he greeted Skyler with a nod, and she responded with a smile and tears in her eyes as she stepped forward to tap his back, just as the Great Elder had. This was her son, her second son, whom she hadn't seen in years. Her second Bradford.
"Good evening, Father," he greeted Timothy, who stood beside Skyler.
"Welcome home, son," Timothy replied, his face gentle, a smile spreading across it.
After greeting them, his eyes swept across the hall and found the person he'd been looking for, standing between his two friends, with a red-haired woman just behind them. He walked toward them with an easy elegance.
To Olivia, every step he took closer felt like it might send her heart straight out of her mouth. Her mind kept screaming: The man walking toward them is her husband. Her mysterious husband. He wasn't an imbecile, but a devastatingly handsome man, one with the beauty of something not quite human. Cold. Dangerous. Magnetic.
As soon as he reached them, Olivia stepped back slightly. She had to admit she was afraid of him. He hadn't made a single move, and still, she was scared.
"Good evening, brother," second Bradford said.
"And you think I'll respond to your greeting, Alexander? Such confidence," Matthew said, glancing at him.
"At least you said something back," second Bradford, also known as Alexander, replied.
"And that's exactly why I hate you more." With that, Matthew walked away.
"Well, you made elder brother angry again," Victor said, patting Alexander on the back while shaking his head playfully.
"Get your paws off me," Alexander said to the young man still patting him.
"Is that how you speak to a friend you haven't seen in days? What a cold man," Victor exclaimed dramatically.
"Well, you should know his behavior by now," Robert chimed in.
"True. He doesn't care about any of us, maybe just a little about Amalia," Victor replied.
"What do you mean, 'a little'? He doesn't care at all. I wasn't even informed he was coming back, if not for Vivian," the young woman in the white suit said, walking up to join them.
"Well, at least you all know now." Not giving her a chance to keep talking, Alexander turned and began walking toward the stage, where the Great Elder was already calling for him.