Adrian Cole Return of the Lost Heir novel Chapter 44

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Chapter 44

The shift happened without warning.

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One moment, the ballroom was buzzing with shallow laughter and clinking glasses. The next, phones began lighting up across the room first one, then two, then dozens.

–

A hush followed.

Then whispers.

Then shock.

“Have you seen this?”

“Is this real?”

“The Coles… they actually did it?”

Catherine felt the change before she understood it. The air itself seemed to tilt. Conversations stalled mid- sentence as guests stared down at their screens. Even the orchestra at the far side of the ballroom lost rhythm for a few beats before gradually fading into silence.

Liam, who had been surrounded by a group of flattering guests only seconds ago, frowned at his phone.

Then his face drained of color.

The headline spread too fast to contain.

The Cole Family has officially terminated all cooperation with the Wharton Group.

The statement was brief, ruthless, and final.

It detailed how the Wharton Group had manipulated contract terms, shown bias, and engaged in dishonest practices. An internal breach had been discovered during review. As a result, all partnerships were terminated effective immediately.

No room for appeal.

No opportunity for explanation.

Liam’s earlier boast about his “solid partnership” with the Coles – came crashing down in real time.

Someone near the buffet let out a low laugh.

Then another.

The ripples of mockery spread quickly, elegant and cruel.

Catherine watched as people subtly stepped away from Liam. The same men who had been eager to toast to his success now avoided his eyes as if failure were contagious. His confident posture stiffened, then sagged.

He tried to smile.

It didn’t hold.

A woman nearby whisper–laughed into her champagne glass. “Didn’t he just claim he was the Cole family’s chosen heir or something?”

“Looks like the Coles didn’t get the memo.”

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The sound of suppressed laughter stung far worse than open ridicule.

Catherine’s lips curved despite herself. She didn’t feel guilty. Not even a little.

Beside her, Adrian remained still, hands in his pockets, watching the scene as if it were nothing more than a passing weather change.

She leaned closer to him. “That call earlier,” she said quietly. “You really weren’t talking to Miss Reyes, were you?”

Adrian’s mouth twitched. “No.”

Catherine blinked. “Then you were bluffing?”

“Yes.”

She stared at him. “You risked that?”

“I didn’t risk anything,” he said calmly. “People like Liam collapse on their own. They just need a breeze.”

She let out a breath that was half a laugh, half disbelief. “So you really did nothing.”

“I stood there.”

“That’s worse,” she muttered, shaking her head. “That’s terrifying.”

Across the room, Liam tried to recover. He forced a laugh, loud and brittle. “You know how rumors spread. This is obviously some misunderstanding-”

No one responded.

The void around him widened.

Catherine watched him, then quietly said, “He’s been chasing me for years.”

Adrian glanced at her.

“My grandfather once considered a marriage alliance with the Whartons. Liam took that as permission.” Her fingers tightened around her glass. “The messages. The gifts. The entitlement. When my

acted like I’d wronged him.”

She scoffed softly. “Tonight feels… final. Like a door closing.”

f

“ly withdrew, he

Adrian lowered his gaze slightly. “Sometimes humiliation is the only language people like him understand.”

She nodded. For the first time in years, she felt oddly light.

A group of people suddenly started walking into the hall, drawing Catherine’s and Adrian attention.

“Who are this people, they seemed to be from the medical City, I thought this was just a normal gala, looking like something else” Adrian let out.

“Medical City people” Catherine said looking around. “Maybe they have to be a reason” she added, Confused, she excused herself.

“Please, I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she said, slipping away.

Across the hall, she spotted the President of Medical City, Dr. Alistair Renford, speaking with a few staff members. Straightening her posture, Catherine approached him with professional courtesy.

“President Renford,” she greeted respectfully.

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He turned, offering a polite nod. They exchanged brief pleasantries before Catherine, unabl growing unease in her chest, quietly asked:

he

“Sir… may I ask what’s happening? Why are medical supplies being brought into the hall?” Her tone remained formal, careful. “This doesn’t resemble the event we were told about. And I’ve noticed many more people from the medical center than expected. Wasn’t this supposed to be a general celebration?”

“I should clarify,” President Renford said, lowering his voice so only Catherine could hear. “I am not the true organizer of tonight’s banquet. The one who initiated all of this… is our association’s vice president–Doctor Aldric Arvan.”

Catherine blinked. “Doctor Arvan?”

Renford nodded. “He personally summoned several senior elder members from our Medical Association. And more than that–he invited presidents from neighboring Medical Cities as well. Even I wasn’t informed of the purpose.” His brows tightened, a rare display of discomfort “Whatever he intends… it is far beyond a simple gathering.”

Catherine was stunned.

During the last major medical conference, Dr. Arvan–despite being vice president–didn’t even attend. He was known for being reclusive, unpredictable, and selective about the events he acknowledged. And now he suddenly appeared… and mobilized the highest–ranking medical leaders across state lines?

Something was off. Deeply off.

Before Catherine could speak, the atmosphere in the hall shifted.

A sudden wave of movement swept through the crowd as Dr. Aldric Arvan entered with grand ceremony, flanked by a large entourage. Walking beside him was Freya Ventress, her poise elegant and commanding. The Ventress family was one of the most influential families across several neighboring states–surpassing even the Morrittis in political reach and scientific power.

Guests immediately hurried to greet them, almost tripping over themselves in their eagerness to flatter. Compliments filled the air like rehearsed lines:

“Vice President Arvan, an honor–truly an honor!”

“Miss Ventress, you grace this hall with your presence!”

“Such prestige–tonight is unforgettable!”

Dr. Arvan accepted every greeting with a cold, superior smirk. His chin lifted slightly, as though even acknowledging these people took effort.

When his gaze swept the room, he did not pause at President Renford–despite Renford being his superior in rank.

Instead, without a word, Dr. Arvan strode directly to the main seat at the head of the hall and sat down as though it belonged to him alone.

A silent wave of discomfort rippled among the elder members.

Renford clenched his jaw almost imperceptibly.

Catherine noticed. Her stomach tightened.

Something about tonight was very wrong.

And Dr. Arvan’s blatant disrespect was only the beginning.

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