The Real Heiress Rules the World (Sloane Rivers) novel Chapter 494

**TITLE: Bonfire 494**
**CONTENT: Chapter 494 The Princess’s First Dance**

“The scale of this party is absolutely mind-boggling…” a socialite murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but laced with awe.

As the clock inched closer to the official commencement of the banquet, the entire hall thrummed with a palpable sense of excitement. Guests shifted in their seats, their eyes darting toward the grand entrance, all eagerly anticipating the arrival of the elusive heiress of the illustrious Oliver family.

Then, as if orchestrated by a conductor, the magnificent crystal chandeliers dimmed, casting a soft, ethereal glow throughout the room. A single spotlight pierced through the gentle darkness, illuminating the top of the grand marble staircase like a scene from a fairy tale.

An expectant hush fell over the crowd, a silence thick with anticipation.

Beneath that radiant beam stood a young woman, her presence commanding yet graceful. Dressed in a couture gown spun from champagne-gold fabric, it flowed around her like liquid starlight, glimmering with every movement as she began her descent. Each step she took sent the diamonds intricately sewn along the hem into a dazzling dance of light, as if she were gliding through a celestial river of stars.

Her skin radiated a luminous, snow-white glow, and the delicate curve of her collarbones caught the light in a way that made her appear ethereal. A stunning blue diamond pendant rested against her chest, sparkling like a piece of the ocean, harmonizing beautifully with the scattered jewels adorning her gown.

At the foot of the staircase, Lucas awaited her arrival, his demeanor composed yet filled with an undercurrent of emotion. He wore a meticulously tailored black tailcoat that accentuated his broad shoulders and tapered waist, exuding an air of sophistication. A blue diamond pin, mirroring Sloane’s pendant, gleamed at his collar, a subtle yet powerful statement of their connection. Under the chandelier’s glow, the intricate pattern of his suit whispered elegance, every detail carefully chosen.

His sharp features, often perceived as cold and commanding, softened as he looked up at her. His gaze was filled with warmth, and a tender smile graced his lips. The formidable businessman who once inspired fear in the hearts of many had vanished, replaced by a man utterly, hopelessly in love.

As Sloane reached the final step, Lucas dropped to one knee before her. With the utmost reverence, he took her slender hand in his, slipping on a pair of exquisite sapphire-embedded crystal heels. His fingers brushed lightly against her ankle, a touch so gentle it felt almost sacred, as if he were performing an act of devotion.

Sloane looked down at him, a smile blooming on her face, her dimples appearing like delicate petals. She reached out, her fingers caressing his cheek, and their eyes locked in a moment that felt suspended in time—light meeting shadow, and in that instant, sparks seemed to ignite in the air around them.

The guests collectively held their breath, captivated by the scene. Together, they formed a vision too perfect for this world—she, as radiant as moonlight, and he, as striking as the sun. Even the painted lovers in the grand oil portraits that adorned the walls seemed to dim in comparison to their brilliance.

“The man waiting for her—” someone gasped softly, astonishment lacing their voice. “Isn’t that Mr. Hawthorne from Stonebridge’s Hawthorne Corp?”

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