The gala soon officially began. After a brief welcome speech, Leroy invited several CEOs to the stage for opening remarks.

Then, with great ceremony, he called Jamison up for a few words.

All eyes turned to Jamison—and, naturally, no one missed the strikingly beautiful Ivy at his side.

Not wanting to leave his stunning wife alone to be ogled by the crowd, Jamison took her hand and led her up to the stage with him.

“Mr. Ludwig,” Leroy said, microphone in hand and unable to resist fishing for opportunities, “since you’re here tonight with us, are you considering investing in any of our projects?”

Jamison accepted the mic from the host, offering a faint smile. “We are considering it,” he replied, “but of course, only if something catches our interest as a couple.”

The way he said “as a couple,” grouping himself and Ivy together, sent another ripple of surprise through the audience.

“Why on earth would Mr. Jamison dote on Ivy like this? Even after all the scandals, he still treats her like a queen.”

“You don’t know Ivy. Don’t think she’s just a pretty face—she was brilliant in school, a real academic star.”

“If she hadn’t disappeared for those three years, the sky would’ve been the limit for her.”

The Windsor family stood awkwardly amid the crowd, overhearing the whispers. The comments left a bitter taste in their mouths.

To make matters worse, someone approached them with thinly veiled sarcasm.

“Mr. Windsor, congratulations! Ivy is truly exceptional—beauty and brains, a role model for the next generation.”

“Such a shame some people didn’t recognize her worth—kicked out their golden goose and kept a counterfeit instead.”

The crowd chuckled, making the Windsors’ faces darken further.

Emma nearly lost her temper, barely restraining herself for the sake of appearances.

Rosetta, however, maintained her composure and smiled. “Blood ties can’t be broken. Sooner or later, Ivy will return to the Windsor family. When that day comes, don’t come begging for her favor.”

Someone scoffed, “Dream on! Ivy’s no fool. Now that she’s with Mr. Jamison, why would she ever come back? She knows better than to let you leech off her again.”

Rosetta was left speechless.

Emma jumped in to defend her mother. “You have no idea. My sister values family much more than you think—she doesn’t care about money.”

“Family? The Windsors know anything about that?”

“You-”

Before Emma could retort, a wave of applause erupted from the stage.

They turned to see Jamison and Ivy, arm in arm, bowing gracefully before handing the mic back to the host. The two of them descended together, radiating happiness and affection.

The moment they stepped down, a flock of business heavyweights swarmed around them—some exchanging pleasantries, others offering congratulations, but all eager to curry favor.

“Come on, let’s go say hello to Mr. Jamison!”

“Hurry, we can’t miss this!”

No one bothered arguing with the Windsors anymore, the crowd’s attention shifted entirely to Jamison.

Adkins watched the scene unfold, torn between anger and regret. He couldn’t help but ask his wife, “What did you say to them earlier? Did Ivy agree?”

Rosetta shook her head, her voice uncertain. “From her reaction… I don’t think she refused.”

Baillie pressed her lips together, unable to hide her resentment. “Ivy’s gotten so full of herself. We’re still family, but now that she’s made it big, she won’t even look at us. All those years raising her for nothing.”

Emma muttered, “She acted the same way before she married Jamison, always thinking she was above everyone…”

Rosetta shot her a warning look, and Emma immediately fell silent.

Jamison held a glass of whiskey for appearances’ sake, but didn’t drink. Instead, he handed Ivy a glass of fresh juice. “You shouldn’t drink tonight. Try this—it’s freshly squeezed.”

“Thank you,” Ivy replied warmly.

They exchanged a smile, captivating everyone around them, not a single gaze left Ivy.

Just then, a young man about Jamison’s age, Sheridan Carter, strode up and threw an arm around Jamison’s shoulders, teasing, “Getting married so suddenly, Jamison! I have to say, you lucked out—your wife is stunning.”

Jamison sidestepped, removing Sheridan’s arm with a playful grin. “Says the guy who’s been down the aisle twice already. If you can do it, why can’t I?”

Sheridan burst out laughing. “Hey, that’s not my fault. Women seem sweet when you’re dating, but once you marry them, they turn into nagging harpies.”

As he finished, Sheridan glanced at Ivy, half–joking, half–serious. “Take my advice, Ivy—don’t be too controlling. No man likes to feel tied down.”

Ivy opened her mouth to reply, but Jamison beat her to it. “You don’t know me at all. I love it when my wife keeps me in line—the stricter she is, the happier I am.”

He turned to Ivy, his tone direct. “Babe, tough love makes a better man—don’t hold back.”

Ivy gave him a dazzling smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “All right, I’ll make sure you get what you wish for.”

Sheridan was completely bewitched by her smile, practically drooling as he joked, “Say, do you have any friends as amazing as you? Maybe you could introduce one to me.”

Ivy’s lips curled in amusement. Well, wasn’t that a coincidence—she actually did have a “friend” in mind.