Choosing The Forgotten, Finding My King
img img Choosing The Forgotten, Finding My King img Chapter 3
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Chapter 6 img
Chapter 7 img
Chapter 8 img
Chapter 9 img
Chapter 10 img
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Chapter 3

Kallie POV

The grand ballroom grew silent, every eye fixed on me, the air thick with anticipation. It was time for Frederick to announce his successor, and for me to formalize my choice.

Just then, a hush fell as the double doors of the ballroom swung open. A nurse carefully wheeled in Kolton Griffin. He looked painfully thin, his face stark against the crisp white of his shirt. He was confined to a wheelchair, a permanent reminder of the car accident that had claimed his parents and left him with a limp and a marginalized existence within the family.

A ripple of knowing smirks passed through the older members of the family. They saw Kolton as damaged goods, an invalid not fit to lead.

My choice. It was now.

I remembered Frederick' s words to me earlier that week, during a private dinner in his study. "Kallie," he had said, his voice gravelly with age but sharp with wisdom, "the trust stipulates your choice, and I will honor it. Entirely. But I advise you to keep your decision to yourself until the moment of the announcement. Let them speculate."

"When the time is right, everyone will know," he had concluded, a glint in his eye. His control, even from the sidelines, was absolute.

I had hesitated, almost blurting out my true intentions. But I held back, respecting his wisdom. Kolton, across the table, had remained impassive, but I could have sworn I saw a flicker of something in his eyes, a brief moment of disappointment, quickly masked.

I understood Frederick's caution. This family, vast and sprawling, was a nest of vipers, each one eyeing the fortune and power that controlling Griffin & Associates wielded. Any hint of my decision, any deviation from their carefully constructed expectations, would lead to chaos.

Austen had spent his life believing the firm was his birthright. His arrogance was a shield, but also a blindfold. He truly thought I was still his pathetic, lovesick devotee. I decided then not to give him the satisfaction of a fight. Let him gloat. Let them all think what they wanted.

I turned my back on the murmuring crowd, on Austen's smug confidence, and walked towards the center of the room, my head held high.

Frederick, from his raised dais, cleared his throat. The sound echoed in the sudden, profound silence. He looked at me, a subtle, almost imperceptible nod of his head. It was my cue.

"Tonight," Frederick announced, his voice booming, "we celebrate Kallie Parrish's twenty-fifth birthday, and a new chapter for Griffin & Associates."

He gestured towards me. "As per my late partner's wishes, Kallie will now announce her choice. Her voice, and hers alone, will decide the future leadership of this firm."

Austen, radiant with self-importance, puffed out his chest, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He had already angled his body, preparing to accept the congratulations.

I met his gaze, and then, slowly, deliberately, I turned my head. My eyes swept past the snickering faces, past the expectant looks, past the pitying glances directed at Kolton in his wheelchair.

I looked at Kolton. His eyes were wide, a silent plea for me to choose Austen, to maintain the status quo, to not drag him into this mess. Or perhaps... a quiet hope I had never dared to acknowledge.

"I choose Kolton Griffin," I stated, my voice clear and unwavering, cutting through the silence like a sharp blade.

The gasp that erupted was instantaneous, deafening. It was a collective roar of disbelief, shock, and outrage.

Austen's face, only moments ago so full of triumph, crumpled into a mask of pure horror. His jaw went slack, his eyes wide and vacant.

"What did she say?" someone gasped. "Kolton? The cripple?"

Frederick' s gaze, usually so distant, now held a glint of steel. "The choice has been made," he declared, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. "Kallie Parrish has chosen Kolton Griffin to be her husband and, by extension, the next managing partner of Griffin & Associates."

"No! That's impossible!" Austen shrieked, his voice raw, desperate. He lunged forward, stumbling over his own feet, his carefully constructed composure shattered. "Frederick, you must be mistaken! You're old! You misheard!"

Frederick merely raised an eyebrow. "My ears are perfectly fine, Austen. And my mind sharper than yours will ever be. Kallie's choice is clear and final."

Austen turned to me, his eyes now pleading, desperate. "Kallie! Tell them! Tell them it's a mistake! You love me! You've always loved me!" He reached for my hand, his fingers surprisingly cold. "This is a joke, right? You're playing a cruel trick!"

I pulled my hand away, a wave of disgust washing over me. "There is no trick, Austen," I said, my voice cold and hard. "I chose Kolton."

Kolton, still in his wheelchair, visibly flinched. His eyes widened, fixing on me with a mixture of shock and something I couldn't quite decipher.

Austen's face contorted in rage. He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. "How could you? The whole city knows you're obsessed with me! You've fawned over me for years! You wouldn't choose... him!" he spat the last word, glancing at Kolton with utter contempt. "You're doing this to get back at me, aren't you? Because of Dennie?"

I ripped my arm from his grasp. "Jealous of what, Austen? Of your pathetic displays of affection with my sister? I chose Kolton because he possesses something you never will: integrity. Steadfastness. A quiet strength that far outweighs your superficial charm."

The room erupted again, a cacophony of whispers and gasps. The very same people who had mocked Kolton moments ago now looked at him with dawning respect. The currents of power in the room had shifted, abruptly, decisively. Overnight, Austen was relegated to the sidelines, a forgotten prince. Kolton, the 'damaged' cousin, was now the king.

Dennie, her face pale with shock, suddenly surged forward, casting aside her fragile act. "Kallie, you can't!" she cried, rushing to my side. "You're being cruel! Austen was ready to marry you!" She turned to the crowd, her voice rising. "Don't you see how heartless this is? How could you choose that... that invalid, over Austen?"

I stared at her, a bitter smile on my lips. "Ready to marry me?" I scoffed, my voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Ready to marry me under conditions of an 'independent life'? No shared accounts, no shared bedroom, and no questions asked about his... 'private' affairs?"

"Is that the 'love' you're defending, Dennie?" I challenged, my gaze sweeping over the shocked faces of the guests.

Dennie faltered, her face draining of color. The murmurs intensified, now directed at her and Austen. Austen looked around, a dawning horror on his face. His carefully constructed image lay in ruins. His arrogance had been his undoing.

Kolton, who had been listening in silence, now spoke, his voice low but resonating with newfound authority. "The decision is made," he reiterated, his gaze firm. He looked at Austen, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Kallie has chosen, and Frederick has approved. If you have an objection, Austen, I suggest you take it to the board of directors."

Then, he turned to me, and for the first time, called me by a new title. "My fiancée."

The word sent a shiver through me, a thrilling jolt of warmth. Kolton looked at me, his eyes no longer holding that subtle hint of disappointment. Instead, they burned with a quiet, fierce intensity. He was no longer the invalid, the marginalized cripple. He was a man reborn, a hidden weapon finally unleashed.

Austen let out a strangled cry, his body trembling with rage and despair. He knew. He had lost everything: his inheritance, his prestige, and the woman he had always treated as his personal "toy." For the first time, I saw fear in his eyes. He realized that without my adoration, without the power that came with me, he truly was nothing.

"No! I won't let you!" Austen hissed, his voice hoarse, broken. "Frederick is senile! Kolton will never take what's mine! You're mine, Kallie!"

"I belong to no one," I whispered back, my voice barely audible but firm. "Tonight, I celebrate with my future husband. Get out, Austen. Go take care of your little... playmate."

Austen's eyes widened in utter disbelief, his world collapsing around him.

            
            

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