Chapter 4 - The ExodusBefore I could even process Emmett's invitation, the atmosphere in the ballroom shifted from stunned shock to chaotic motion.
Investors and executives who had spent the evening ignoring me suddenly began shifting their weight, murmuring amongst themselves, and casting sidelong glances in my direction. The realization was spreading through the room like wildfire: the quiet girl in the corner wasn't just an eccentric relative; she was the secret weapon behind one of the most powerful tech conglomerates in the country.
And Emmett Stewart was leaving, taking her with him.
“Mr. Stewart—Emmett, wait!”
It was Richard Vance, our uncle and a senior partner at a major hedge fund. For years, Uncle Richard had treated me like background noise, a non-entity at family gatherings whose existence was barely acknowledged between courses. Now, he was practically jogging across the polished hardwood floor, his hand extended with a grease-slick smile.
“I had no idea! Nicholas, you sly dog, why didn't you introduce us properly to your sister?” Richard beamed, ignoring the tear-streaked disaster my brother had become. “Stewart Technologies, right? That’s an incredible portfolio. Jenna, sweetheart, we must get lunch next week. I’ve been meaning to expand my tech holdings into semantic narrative algorithms—”
Emmett stepped directly into Richard’s path, blocking him with an immovable, frigid posture.
“Save your breath, Richard,” Emmett said flatly, having clearly read the room and recognized the opportunistic vultures. “If you didn't have time to learn your niece's name or profession before she was publicly validated by a billionaire, you certainly don't deserve her time now. Good evening.”
Richard froze, his hand hanging awkwardly in mid-air as a deep, humiliating crimson crept up his neck.
I looked down at the table. Little Leo, the four-year-old with the green crayon smudged across his cheek, tugged gently on my sleeve.
“Are you going, Jenna?” he asked, his big eyes wide and innocent. “Are you leaving the dragons?”
My heart melted just a little bit. I reached down, placing the final green crayon into his small hand along with the drawing of the dragon.
“I have to go, buddy,” I whispered softly, smiling at him. “But you keep fighting those semi-trucks, okay? You're going to win every race.”
Leo beamed, clutching the drawing like it was a treasure map.
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I stood up, smoothing down the light-blue dress that Nicholas had picked out with such condescending intent. It suddenly didn't feel like a costume anymore. It felt like armor.
Emmett offered his arm, and without a backward glance at my weeping brother, my furious mother, or the crumbling facade of the Vermont wedding, I took it. We walked side-by-side down the center aisle, right past the altar, through the massive oak doors, and out into the crisp evening air where a sleek black town car was waiting with its engine idling.
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