Dinner at the Hart residence had always followed a rhythm.
The table was long, polished, and immaculately set. Crystal glasses reflected the chandelier's soft light, and the quiet clink of cutlery against porcelain echoed through the dining room like a measured metronome. It was the kind of house where silence wasn't awkward—it was cultivated.
Three people sat at the table.
One seat remained empty.
Miranda noticed it first, as she always did.
She sat with her back straight, movements precise, the way she had been taught since childhood. Across from her, her father ate slowly, barely tasting the food, his mind clearly elsewhere. At the head of the table, her mother maintained her composed expression, though the slight tension in her jaw betrayed her thoughts.
"So," her mother said at last, folding her napkin carefully. "It's official."
Miranda exhaled quietly. "Yes. Halcyon confirmed it this afternoon."
Her father's fork paused midair. "Public announcement?"
"Already circulating," Miranda replied. "Media outlets picked it up within minutes."
Silence settled again.
Her mother leaned back slightly. "Halcyon doesn't move without certainty. They must see long-term value in her."
Miranda nodded. "That's what worries me."
Her father finally set his fork down. "Evelyn was never lacking in capability," he said. "What she lacked was guidance."
"And restraint," her mother added coolly.
Miranda hesitated before speaking again. "The industry's reaction has been… enthusiastic. Designers, photographers, even international brands are watching her now."
Her mother's eyes flicked toward the empty chair.
"She's always been watched," she said. "She just didn't know it."
Miranda swallowed. "This contract changes things."
"How?" her father asked.
"It gives her independence," Miranda said carefully. "Influence. Leverage. People will listen to her now."
Her mother's lips curved slightly—not a smile, but something colder. "Influence is fragile. It only lasts as long as the narrative allows."
Miranda shifted in her seat. "Still, she won't have an easy path."
"No," her mother said calmly. "Not while she insists on standing where she doesn't belong."
Her father glanced between them. "The Cross family will react."
Miranda stiffened. "That's what concerns me most."
Her mother's gaze sharpened. "The engagement?"
"Yes," Miranda replied. "Evelyn's rise complicates it. Adrian's family won't tolerate Halcyon overshadowing their interests."
Her father nodded slowly. "Victor Cross does not share control."
"And Adrian?" Miranda asked.
Her mother scoffed softly. "Adrian believes he does."
Miranda looked down at her plate. "Should we step in?"
"No," her mother replied immediately. "Not yet."
Her father leaned back. "Let her enjoy the illusion of freedom."
Miranda frowned. "And if she stumbles?"
Her mother stood, gathering her napkin. "Then the industry will remind her where she came from."
Miranda's voice lowered. "And if she doesn't stumble?"
Her mother turned slowly, her expression unreadable.
"Then she will learn," she said, "that success invites enemies she is not prepared to face."
The empty chair remained untouched.
And somewhere else in the city, Evelyn Hart was unaware that her name had just been weighed like a liability.
Across the city,
The Cross estate was quiet—but not peaceful.
Victor Cross stood by the window of his study, city lights stretching endlessly below him. The room smelled faintly of leather and aged books, the walls lined with awards, framed headlines, and photographs marking decades of dominance in entertainment and luxury branding.
Behind him, Adrian stood near the bookshelf, arms crossed, jaw tight.
Victor turned, holding out his tablet.
"Read it again."
Adrian didn't need to. The headline was burned into his mind.
HALCYON ANNOUNCES EVELYN HART AS NEW GLOBAL FACE
"They didn't hesitate," Victor said sharply. "Not even a trial campaign."
"They believe in her," Adrian replied.
Victor laughed once, dry and unimpressed. "Belief is irrelevant. Timing is not."
He placed the tablet down and began pacing. "Halcyon has momentum now. Media goodwill. Industry sympathy."
"And we still have reach," Adrian said.
"For now," Victor countered. "But dominance is never static."
He stopped in front of his son. "This changes the board."
Adrian met his gaze. "It doesn't have to be a conflict."
Victor's eyes narrowed. "You're still thinking emotionally."
"I'm thinking realistically."
Victor shook his head. "Halcyon is positioning her as a symbol. Fresh. Untouched. Relatable." His voice hardened. "That threatens us."
Adrian's fists clenched slightly. "She isn't a threat."
"She is standing where our interests intersect," Victor said. "That makes her one."
He turned back to the desk, tapping the tablet again. "Aurelian."
Adrian's shoulders stiffened. "Their competitor."
"Yes," Victor said. "Their newest entrants are ambitious and malleable. We select the strongest and elevate them aggressively."
Adrian hesitated. "This isn't just business."
Victor looked at him sharply. "Everything is business."
"This is about Evelyn."
Victor stepped closer. "Evelyn Hart is a variable. Variables are managed."
"She didn't choose sides."
"She chose Halcyon."
Silence fell between them.
Victor's voice lowered. "You need to decide where you stand, Adrian."
Adrian looked away, jaw tightening.
"Because the industry already has," Victor continued. "And it won't wait for your hesitation."
Outside, the city pulsed with movement.
And far from both households, alliances were forming, plans unfolding, and consequences inching closer to Evelyn Hart—whether she was ready or not.