Her Birthday His Forbidden Desire novel Chapter 15

**Twilight Carves Destinies**

**Chapter 5**

The evening Declan returned was marked by a grand charity gala, an event that was a staple in their affluent social circle. Sloane, of course, found herself obligated to attend as well, her presence a mere extension of Declan’s.

Before they arrived at the venue, their opulent Rolls-Royce made a brief stop at a chic styling lounge. The air was thick with anticipation, and Declan, with his usual charm, stepped out to personally invite Vivienne. She stood poised at the entrance, draped in a custom couture gown that cost more than most people’s annual salaries. A diamond-studded clutch sparkled in her hand, yet she remained immobile, as if time had paused just for her.

With a hint of uncertainty, Declan opened the rear door, his voice tentative. “Sloane… would you—”

But before he could finish his thought, Sloane, feeling the weight of the moment, silently exited the car and made her way to the front passenger seat, her heart heavy with unspoken words.

The gala was hosted in a lavish estate, where the banquet hall was illuminated by an array of shimmering chandeliers. The enamel-painted lights danced across the crowd, casting playful shadows that seemed to mimic the swirling emotions in the room.

As soon as Vivienne appeared, elegantly linked to Declan’s arm, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The entire room turned to gaze at her, a collective intake of breath echoing through the hall. A gaggle of well-bred socialites flocked around her, eager to shower her with compliments.

“Vivienne, Declan is absolutely spoiling you! That gown—aren’t you the very first to wear it in the world?” one of them exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with envy.

“I heard he was overseas last week, and to snag that exact couture piece from a Parisian collector, he even bet on a race and injured his arm!” another chimed in, her voice dripping with intrigue.

So that was the reason for his injury… he had gone to such lengths for the woman of the hour. Vivienne’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she responded, “Please, don’t bring it up… it bled so much. I merely mentioned liking it once, and he—”

“Hah! Now that’s what love looks like! He’d risk life and limb for you!” another voice interjected, laughter mingling with the compliments.

As the praise flowed like an unstoppable tide, Sloane felt a sharp sting from the sidelong glances of some women in the crowd. “Some people waltz in here wearing a five-year-old hand-me-down and think they’re royalty. Please. She’s not even worthy of carrying Vivienne’s heels,” one of them sneered, her disdain palpable.

Sloane glanced down at her own dress—a choice that had been carefully curated by Declan himself. She clenched her fingers, her nails digging into her palm as she fought to endure the subtle barbs thrown her way.

The event soon transitioned into the charity auction, where the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. While most of the items were mere trinkets that Vivienne had deemed unworthy, Declan made extravagant bids with each passing round, all to keep the spotlight shining brightly on her.

But then came the one piece that slipped through his fingers: an exquisite emerald ring that was snatched up before he could even raise his paddle.

Naturally, that was the very ring Vivienne had coveted. She tugged at his sleeve, her lips forming a delicate pout. “Declan… I really wanted that ring. I don’t think I’ll be able to enjoy a single bite tonight without it.”

But moments later, in the dim shadows of the hall, Declan caught up to her, his hand firm yet gentle on her arm. “Sloane… we need to talk.”

He extended a cocktail glass toward her, a small smile playing on his lips. “I made this for you myself. You noticed it too, didn’t you? Vivienne is doing better now. Once she’s fully recovered, she’ll move out. It’s just… she really liked that ring.”

“And Mr. Clay mentioned that if you agreed to model for just one session… he’d let me buy it. So maybe you could—”

“Absolutely not!” Sloane snapped, pushing him away, her voice sharp and filled with indignation. “Declan, what do you take me for?!”

A wave of bitterness surged within her, and she struggled to suppress it, finally draining the fruit cocktail in a single, furious gulp.

But just as she stepped out of the banquet hall, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her. Her vision blurred, and her legs buckled beneath her, the world spinning around her.

That drink… something was terribly wrong with it.

As her consciousness began to fade, she felt herself being caught in the embrace of someone’s arms. Declan’s voice, barely a whisper, reached her ear, filled with an urgency that sent chills down her spine. “I’m sorry, Sloane. Just this once… the last time.”