Rise of The Abandoned Husband (Liam Knight) novel Chapter 18

18 Chapter 18 – Spotlight on an Unlikely Hero

The spotlight’s glare was blinding. I stood frozen, my hands trembling slightly as the sea of unfamiliar faces turned toward me. These weren’t just any faces–they belonged to Havenwood’s elite, people who wouldn’t have spared me a second glance a week ago. Now they stared with curious eyes, assessing me like I was some exotic specimen.

My throat tightened. Public speaking had never been my strong suit, especially not in front of people who had spent years looking down on me. I adjusted my tie–a tie that cost more than I used to make in a month–and took a hesitant step forward.

“You can do this,” I whispered to myself, searching for Isabelle’s face in the crowd.

When our eyes met, everything else faded away. Her encouraging smile steadied me, like an anchor in stormy waters. She believed in me, and somehow, that made all the difference.

As I joined her on the platform, whispers rippled through the audience.

“Who is he?”

“Isn’t that Seraphina’s ex–husband?”

“The worthless live–in son–in–law?”

“What does Isabelle Ashworth see in him?”

I kept my expression neutral, but each whisper was like a needle pricking my skin- painful reminders of who I used to be. Or rather, who they thought I was.

Gideon Blackwood’s face had turned an alarming shade of purple. He gripped a nearby table for support, his knuckles white with strain. Beside him, Seraphina looked like she’d seen a ghost–her mouth hanging open in an undignified gape that would have been comical under different circumstances.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Isabelle’s melodious voice commanded the room’s attention. “Allow me to properly introduce Liam Knight, an extraordinary pharmaceutical researcher whose groundbreaking work in regenerative medicine has caught the Ashworth family’s attention. His innovations could revolutionize treatment for conditions previously considered untreatable.”

18 Chapter 18–Spotlight on an Unlikely Hero

More whispers. More stares. I stood straighter, drawing strength from Isabelle’s words.

“The Sterling–Blackwood Group is proud to announce a full funding package of twenty million dollars for Mr. Knight’s research facility here in Havenwood,” she continued, her voice carrying effortlessly through the stunned silence. “We believe his work represents the future of medical science.”

A collective gasp swept through the crowd. Twenty million dollars. The number hung in the air, transforming skeptical looks into ones of calculation and sudden interest. Gideon swayed on his feet. For a moment, I genuinely thought he might collapse. His dreams of Ashworth funding–crushed in an instant.

“This can’t be happening,” he muttered loudly enough for those nearby to hear. “He’s nobody. A nobody!”

Isabelle’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Mr. Blackwood, are you feeling unwell? Perhaps you should sit down.”

Her suggestion, though politely phrased, carried an unmistakable edge. Several guests quickly stepped away from Gideon, not wanting to be associated with someone clearly out of favor with an Ashworth.

Gideon’s legs finally gave out. He sank into a chair, his expression dazed and defeated. Three years of my suffering condensed into this single moment of poetic justice. It wasn’t enough–not nearly enough for what he’d done to me–but it was a start.

Isabelle turned back to me, reaching up to straighten my already–perfect tie. The gesture was intimate, deliberate, and unmistakable. She was publicly aligning herself

with me.

“Your tie was crooked, she whispered, though it wasn’t.

Thank you, I replied, understanding the message behind her actions.

She turned to face the crowd again. “Mr. Knight will now say a few words about his vision for this partnership.”

My heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t mentioned I’d need to speak. Panic flashed through me as she handed me the microphone, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She was pushing me–challenging me to step fully into this new role.

1 cleared my throat, scanning the sea of expectant faces. These people had laughed at

18 Chapter 18- Spotlight on an Unlikely Herol

me, shunned me, treated me like dirt. Now they waited eagerly to hear what I had to say. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

“Thank you, Miss Ashworth, for this extraordinary opportunity,” I began, my voice surprisingly steady. “Three years ago, I came to Havenwood with nothing but my research and determination. Today, I stand before you as proof that true talent cannot be buried forever, no matter how hard some might try.”

My eyes briefly met Seraphina’s. She flinched, recognizing the barb for what it was. “My work focuses on harnessing the body’s natural healing abilities and enhancing them through biological catalysts,” I continued, slipping into the comfortable territory of my research. “With the Ashworth family’s support, we’ll develop treatments that could heal injuries that currently leave people permanently disabled.”

As I spoke, I grew more confident. This was my domain–the work I’d pursued even when everyone told me I was wasting my time. The work that had kept me sane during three years of humiliation.

“I won’t disappoint you, Miss Ashworth,” I said, turning to Isabelle. “And to everyone here tonight–remember my name. Liam Knight. You’ll be hearing it often in the years

to come.”

Isabelle clapped first, her eyes shining with what looked almost like pride. The audience followed suit, their applause washing over me in waves. But I wasn’t fooled. Their sudden respect wasn’t for me–it was for the money I now represented, for Isabelle’s clear endorsement.

7

Yesterday’s worthless son–in–law was today’s visionary only because Isabelle Ashworth said so. Their opinions shifted like sand in the wind, without substance or conviction.

From across the room, Seraphina’s high, clear voice cut through the applause. “How convenient for you, Liam. Latching onto another wealthy woman after I threw you out.” The clapping abruptly stopped. A heavy silence fell over the room.

Isabelle’s smile turned glacial as she stepped forward. “Mrs. Sterling, you seem to have something to say. Why don’t you come up here and address everyone properly? I’m sure we’d all love to hear your perspective on Mr. Knight’s… what did you call it? Latching on?

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