Upon arrival at the gala hosted by the Yales, a procession of prestige graced the scene: elites, influential figures, and notable socialites. Sleek luxury vehicles lined up at the entrance, their neon lights illuminating the surroundings. Inside the banquet hall, opulence reigned supreme, a testament to the refined taste of the Yales.

Within the confines of the banquet hall stood Mr. David Yales, accompanied by his wife, Eldora Yales, and their sons, Bryce and Xavier Yales. They, along with their respective companions, gracefully navigated the space, greeting friends and esteemed business partners.

Outside, reporters eagerly snapped photos of the arriving guests, seizing every opportunity to pose probing questions. Within the hour, the arrival of two sleek black Maybachs heralded the entrance of a luxurious Rolls Royce, flanked by two accompanying Mercedes Benz vehicles, ensuring security and grandeur as they approached the hall's entrance. The spectacle was nothing short of impressive! As the vehicles came to a halt, the surrounding guests couldn't help but murmur amongst themselves, captivated by the display.

Oh my goodness! Is that the ride for Dawson Yales?" exclaimed a reporter, awestruck by the sheer luxury of each vehicle. "Every single one exudes opulence. He truly is remarkable."

"Mr. Yales certainly has remarkable sons," remarked a lady to her friend with admiration.

"Indeed, he does. But why wouldn't my darling Dawson be outstanding?" interjected a lady, clad in a stunning red sequin bodycon dinner gown with flowing blonde hair, as she approached.

"So, Miss Smith, does this mean the two of you are together?" inquired the reporter.

"Instead of just talking, why don't I prove it to you?" Chaya Smith responded confidently.

In the blink of an eye, several bodyguards clad in black suits emerged from the Mercedes Benz. With utmost reverence, one of them ceremoniously opened the door of the Rolls Royce.

Anticipation filled the air as the guests awaited this pivotal moment. Dawson Yales, adorned in a sleek black suit, emerged from the vehicle. His descent marked a palpable shift in the atmosphere, enveloping the entrance of the banquet hall in tension.

His gaze was piercing, his lips taut. This countenance bore the hallmark of divine favor.

Upon Dawson's disembarkation from the vehicle, Chaya Smith dashed over, clasping his hands to demonstrate to the reporters their affiliation.

"Dawson, you're here," Chaya Smith said, smiling warmly. However, Dawson merely gestured towards the car, indicating for a specific person to take hold of.

As the lady with a stunning appearance and graceful figure stepped out of the car, guided by Dawson's outstretched hands, jaws across the room dropped in astonishment.

Draped in a vibrant, form-fitting red dress that seemed to ignite the night, her face possessed a beauty so captivating that it sparked whispers of whether she might be a celestial being gracing the earthly realm.

Her hazel eyes, reminiscent of a feline's, were slightly wider set, with a subtle hint of coldness. Yet, they gleamed with the brightness of the morning sun, radiating both intelligence and a keen interest.

Her complexion glowed with a fair and rosy hue, her cascading curls flowing down to her waist imparted an aura of unattainability, as if she were meant to be admired from a distance. Rare diamonds adorned her neck and ears, adding to her allure.

Chaya felt threaten.

She exuded confidence in her appearance, comfortable in her own skin. While she may not rival top stars, she possessed a unique presence that made her stand out. However, upon encountering the woman before her, she couldn't shake the feeling of being merely ordinary.

Since when did Dawson possess such captivating beauty by his side?!

Not just Chaya Smith, but everyone present was left speechless, a stunned silence lingering in the air for what felt like an eternity.

The reporter murmured to his colleagues, "Who is she? She's entirely unfamiliar to me."

The reporter remarked, "She could be a foreigner, but didn't Chaya Smith mention they were in a relationship?"

"You ought to realize she was simply being arrogant. I've never witnessed Dawson Yales even crack a smile in her direction," a fellow reporter retorted with disdain.

"Wow, look at her dress!" someone exclaimed.

Everyone looked at the lady's dress.

In their minds, they were even more stunned.

"...This... could it be... the only dress design crafted by the famous foreign designer Bry this year?"

"Yes, it is," replied the reporter.

Everyone fell into a hushed silence.

Damn it.

It's really the dress!!

A woman paused, pondering before inquiring, "How could she possess such a thing? I've heard it's exorbitantly priced, beyond even the reach of royalty."

"Then why does she possess it? Is she more influential than the royal family?

"I'm not sure, but if we're discussing influence, the Chairman of Makdews Corporation certainly wields more power than the royal family." The murmurs persisted.

"Does this mean she's related to the Chairman of Makdews Corporation?"

"I'm not certain, there's no information on the internet about the families of Chairman Ems. Let's not spread rumors." A reporter explained.

"Observe the diamonds adorning her neck and ears. I recall seeing that design featured as the latest and exclusively customized in a magazine.

"Yes, I noticed them too. Hal created them."

"Wait, are you referring to the enigmatic jewelry craftsman?"

"Yes, indeed. Who else possesses the skill to craft such mesmerizing designs?

The gossip reached Chaya's ears, shattering her hopes.

Chaya paused,pondering before inquiring, "Dawson, who is this woman, and why are her hands clasped with yours?

"Must I divulge details of my personal life?" Dawson responded icily.

"But..." Chaya attempted to continue, only to be swiftly interrupted by the woman.

"Who is this, Dawson?" inquired the woman beside him. Her voice, reminiscent of a violin, exuded an unparalleled serenity.

"She's nobody," he replied curtly, his smile punctuated with dots of sincerity directed at the lady besides him.

Anne Garner sensed the awkward tension and gently grasped Chaya's hands, stealing a glance at the couple before posing her question. "Chaya, who is this lady? I thought Mr. Yales was your date for today, which is why you declined Nathan Sullivan."

"Despicable," the lady beside Dawson remarked, her steps measured as they approached the banquet hall, Dawson at her side.

Recovering from their shock, the reporters advanced toward Dawson, who stood in their path to the banquet.

"Mr. Dawson, who is this lady accompanying you?" a reporter inquired.

"Is she your girlfriend, Mr Dawson?"

"Emmy holds a special place in my heart," replied Dawson Yales.

"Dawson Yales looking from Miss Emmy's elegant attire, is she from a royal family?" another queried

"Of course, she carries royal lineage within her," he continued, smiling at the lady beside him.

His words left the reporters bewildered. Which of the royal family did she belong to that could grant her access to both Bry and Hal's designs? This question lingered on the minds of the reporters, poised to ask, but Dawson beat them to it.

"Excuse me," Dawson said, prompting the reporters to make way.

As Chaya watched the couple enter the hall, her face flushed with anger.

As the couple entered the hall, they immediately captured the attention of the guests, prompting whispers to ripple through every corner.

"Who's that with Dawson? She doesn't seem to be Chaya Smith," a woman in her mid-thirties could be seen asking her husband.

Her daughter replied, "Uh oh, I believe Chaya just embarrassed herself."

"Doesn't that dress on the lady look familiar to you?" her friend asked.

"Yes, but I can't recall where I've seen it. Nevertheless, it exudes luxury," she replied.

"That's the latest design by Bry, called 'Flame,' " Cecile, Dawson's cousin, interjected.

Another woman smirked, crossing her arms along with Cecile's, as she remarked, "I don't think Chaya Smith can measure up to her." Eldoris Hopkins, another cousin of Cecile's, added.

"You're right. Come on, let's go meet Celest," Cecile said, pulling her cousin along with her.

Dawson Yales made his way toward some business partners, Emmy in hand. As he approached the men, they turned toward him, their gaze lingering lustfully on the lady beside Dawson.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Dawson greeted warmly.

"Good evening, Dawson. It's a pleasure to see you," one of them said, maintaining eye contact with the lady before him.

"A pleasure to meet you, Dawson," the other said, nudging his friend to regain composure.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Dimitri," Dawson replied.

"It seems Mr. Fernando is preoccupied," he continued, casting a cold gaze at the man before him.

"That's not it, Mr. Dawson. I'm simply captivated by the beauty before me," Fernando shamelessly replied.

"May I inquire of your name, young lady?" Mr. Fernando continued.

"She's Emmy, Mr. Fernando, and I would advise you to cease dreaming of coveting what is not yours if you wish to keep your eyes attached to your head," Dawson replied coldly.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Emmy," Mr. Dimitri said, attempting to alleviate the tension.

"Hello, Mr. Dimitri," Emmy replied.

"Hi, Mr. Fernando. It's a pleasure meeting you both. I hope Mr. Fernando isn't upset; Dawson tends to be protective of me," she said, clinging to Dawson's hand.

"It's alright, D. Mr. Dimitri was just trying to compliment me," she smiled as she gave Dawson a peck on the cheek.

"Yeah, Dawson. That's precisely my intention," Fernando quickly concurred with the lady before him. He couldn't quite pinpoint it, but there was something about her smile that intrigued him. Nevertheless, he had a lingering sense that provoking this young lady was unwise.

"You see, he wasn't flirting," Emmy continued, maintaining her gaze on Mr. Fernando.

"Mr. Dawson, regarding the collaboration of our company, I believe..."

"This is a party, Mr. Dimitri. We shouldn't delve too deeply into business," Dawson interjected before he could continue

"If you would excuse us, I want to introduce Emmy to some other people." Dawson didn't wait for their response before departing towards the gathering.

"Collaborating with them isn't advisable."

"And why do you say that?" Dawson inquired, casting a glance at the woman beside him.

"Tricky," she replied, her gaze turning cold.

Those were her only words, but Dawson understood their implication. He was taken aback by her insight into Dimitri and Fernando's character.

"Hmm," he replied.

"We should probably go meet the rest of them," she said, smiling as she nodded toward some men not far from where they were standing.

Dawson was stunned for a moment before regaining his composure. "Yeah, you're right."