Chapter 1 The Fall Of Ivy Lancaster

The grand ballroom of the Lancaster estate sparkled under the glow of golden chandeliers. Elegance dripped from every inch of the opulent venue—champagne flutes clinked, laughter rang through the air, and the scent of roses intertwined with the expensive perfume of the country’s elite. Tonight was a celebration, a merging of two empires, and Ivy Lancaster stood at its center. Dressed in a crimson gown that hugged her frame like a second skin, she was the epitome of power and grace. Every step she took exuded confidence, every smile carefully measured. This was her moment. In just a few minutes, her father, Brian Lancaster, would officially announce her engagement to Drake Morone, the heir to one of the wealthiest business dynasties. It was a match made in power—one that would solidify the Lancaster legacy for generations. Ivy should have been basking in the moment, but something felt off. Her stepbrother, Oliver Lancaster, leaned against the bar, swirling a glass of bourbon in his hand, his lips curled into an almost amused smirk. Beside him stood Celeste, Ivy’s best friend, her manicured nails lightly tracing Oliver’s wrist. It was subtle—too subtle—but Ivy had known Celeste long enough to catch the hint of possessiveness in her touch. A strange unease settled in her gut. “Relax,” Drake whispered, his hand resting on the small of her back. “You’re tense.” Ivy forced a smile, pushing aside her doubts. “I’m fine.” The crowd hushed as her father stepped onto the small stage at the front of the room. With a champagne flute in hand, Brian Lancaster stood tall, his presence commanding. The proud patriarch, the man who had built an empire from nothing. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his deep voice carrying through the ballroom. “Tonight, we celebrate the future. A future that my daughter, Ivy, and young Mr. Morone will create together.” Applause erupted. Ivy felt Drake squeeze her waist slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the momentous occasion. And then, everything changed. A man in a black suit approached Brian, handing him a folder. Ivy watched as her father’s expression shifted—his confident stance faltered, his fingers gripping the pages too tightly. The applause died down. A strange silence spread across the room. Brian’s face darkened. “What… what is this?” Ivy’s stomach knotted. “Father?” Brian’s sharp gaze snapped to her. “Tell me this isn’t true.” His voice was quieter now, but beneath it was something worse than anger—betrayal. He raised the folder high, letting the contents spill onto the table beside him. Falsified documents. Bank records. A series of transactions, all leading to one name. Ivy Lancaster. “She’s been embezzling from the company.” Brian’s voice was laced with disbelief. “Millions. Transferred into offshore accounts.” Ivy felt the room sway. “What?” Whispers erupted, murmurs turning into full conversations. “She stole from her own family?” “No wonder she lived like royalty.” “And she was about to marry into Morone’s fortune, too?” “This is insane!” Ivy’s voice rose as she stepped forward. “I never—this is a setup!” Oliver’s voice cut through the noise, smooth and lethal. “Father, I hate to say it, but… there’s undeniable proof.” Ivy’s breath hitched as Oliver picked up one of the scattered documents. “These transactions, these accounts… they all lead back to Ivy.” He turned, feigning regret. “It pains me, truly, but the evidence is irrefutable.” Her world spun. “You bastard,” she whispered, voice trembling with rage. Oliver merely smirked. Drake’s hand dropped from her waist. When she turned to him, searching for support, she found none. His sharp blue eyes were unreadable, his expression cold. “You disgust me,” he said, each word slicing into her. Ivy flinched. “Drake, please, you don’t believe this?” He stepped back. Said nothing. The betrayal stung worse than the accusations. Security moved forward. “Take her away,” Brian ordered, his voice void of emotion. “No!” Ivy shrieked, struggling as strong hands gripped her arms. “Father, please, you know me! You know I would never—” “Enough.” His voice was steel. Ivy turned to Celeste, desperation clawing at her chest. “Celeste, you know this is a lie! Tell them!” But Celeste only tilted her head, her lips curling into a mockery of sympathy. “Oh, Ivy,” she sighed. “I never thought you’d fall so far.” The words hit harder than any slap. It was them. Oliver. Celeste. They had planned this. They had set her up. Rage boiled in Ivy’s veins as the guards tightened their grip, dragging her toward the exit. The crowd parted, watching in stunned silence as she was pulled away from the life she had spent years building. Her father refused to look at her. Drake had already turned his back. Oliver stood tall, victorious. As Ivy was shoved out of the ballroom doors, she realized the cruelest truth of all. She had lost everything. And they had made sure she would never recover.