Ten minutes later, something actually happened.
But it wasn't someone else who got into trouble—it was Emma Johnson.
Olivia Davis had been called away by Ethan Davis. Sitting alone, Emma grew bored. She decided to head to the restroom. On her way out, she ran into a drunk man.
She barely made it two steps before he blocked her path. She stepped back, her voice trembling. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Well, well, a pretty little thing, aren't you? You look good. Come have a few drinks with me. I'll treat you right." The drunken man reached out and grabbed Emma's wrist.
Panic surged through her. She yanked her hand free and dashed back toward the restroom.
She thought she'd be safe once inside. But he followed her, pressing her whole body against the wall. His words were filthy, and his hand reached for her face.
Cornered and helpless, Emma bit down hard on his arm. Just as she was about to push him away and run, the drunk man swung his hand back and slapped her across the face. "You little bitch! I honor you by even looking at you, and you dare to resist?"
Her ears rang from the blow. Her soft, long hair was now a tangled mess. She watched as he raised his hand again, ready to strike. Emma closed her eyes in despair.
The sting on her cheek robbed her of all thought, all ability to call for help.
At that moment, she had no strength left. She could only brace herself for another slap.
But before his palm could fall, a loud crash echoed through the hallway.
Then came a heavy thud, followed by a man's agonized scream.
Terrified, Emma slowly opened her eyes. The drunk man was already on the ground, beaten down.
Liam Williams's tall figure blocked her view. All she could see was his cold back and clenched fists.
Before anyone could react, Liam grabbed a nearby trash can and smashed it down on the drunk man without mercy.
There was no hesitation in his eyes—only a burning, nameless rage.
Everything happened so fast. He hadn't had time to think, to remember how important tonight's banquet was for the Pinnacle Corporation and the Williams family.
All he knew was that when he arrived, he saw that man's palm land hard on Emma's pale cheek.
Was this man blind? How dare he touch a woman belonging to Liam Williams?
How dare he raise a hand to her?
He must be tired of living.
The narrow corridor was now crowded with guests, many of them journalists and reporters from the city.
Seeing such a dramatic scene, they pulled out their cameras and phones, snapping photos of the three of them.
Security from the Pinnacle Corporation arrived and pulled the drunk man up from the floor. The head of security, recognizing Liam, could barely keep his voice steady. "Sir, this is my failure. We will investigate this matter thoroughly."
He turned and shouted at the crowd, "No photos! This is not the time for pictures or interviews. Everyone, disperse!"
Liam didn't say a word. His bloodshot eyes and tense body made the air around them freeze.
Slowly, he turned and looked at Emma, still standing in the corner. Five clear fingerprints marked her pale face.
Her eyes were filled with tears. Her lips were pressed together, trembling. She curled up in the corner, too afraid to speak.
Her soft hair was disheveled, and her evening gown was torn in several places.
Worse still, the people around her continued taking pictures of her as if nothing had happened.
Without a second thought, Liam unbuttoned his jacket, walked over, and wrapped it around her.
Then he took her hand and led her to the stage of the banquet hall.
Inside the hall, a melodious waltz was playing. Guests danced happily to the music.
Liam led her onto the stage, reached out, and turned off the music. He picked up the microphone and spoke solemnly. "Excuse me for a moment. I have something very important to announce."
Hearing his voice, everyone below stopped and looked up at the two people on stage.
After a pause, Liam continued. "The woman standing beside me is the woman I have long claimed as my own—Emma Johnson. In three days, we will hold a grand wedding at Sunrise Manor. I hope all of you will attend. And finally, I don't want to see anyone with a short memory who dares to think wrongly about Liam Williams's woman."
As his words fell, the audience erupted in thunderous applause.
Emma looked at Liam, her eyes filled with confusion.
What was he doing?
The warmth of his palm seeped into her, soothing her fear.
All her terror and apologies seemed to vanish like smoke.
On stage, their eyes met. Emma was moved beyond words.
Before she could say anything, Liam's lips met hers.
The microphone slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a sharp screech that echoed through the hall.
He cupped her face in both hands and kissed her deeply, leaving no space between them.
The sight stabbed Elijah Clark's heart. He had tried again and again to convince himself to give up, but he still couldn't let go.
Wasn't there a saying?
Every road, as long as there's regret, hasn't reached its end!
How could he give up so easily? After all, she was the woman he had loved for years.
Standing beside Ethan Davis, Olivia Davis couldn't help clapping. "This is so romantic! You only see scenes like this in cheesy TV dramas. It's so touching just to watch..."
Ethan grimaced in disgust. "Are all you women this complicated? It's just a wedding. Does it need to be so earth-shattering?"
"You wouldn't understand. All you see is money. It's boring."
Olivia knew that the women who flocked to Ethan were only after his wealth.
Just imagine—if Ethan Davis weren't the heir to the Dawson Group, if he were just an ordinary man.
Who would want to be with a man who didn't know romance, who didn't know compassion?
That night, Emma remained in a daze. She couldn't even remember how she finally got home.
All she could recall was what Liam had said, replaying it over and over in her mind.
And the wedding they would have in three days.
Everything had happened so fast. She hadn't expected any of it.