Chapter 3 Your Wealth Determines Your Position

• For a moment, something flickered inside Celeste—hope, fear, and something dangerous.
• Elizabeth saw only disaster.
• “You think you can protect her?” she sneered. “You couldn’t even protect your own family.”
• Logan’s voice sharpened. “That’s why I won’t fail again.”
• A heavy silence fell over the doorway.
• Celeste stepped back, opening the door wider.
• “Come in, Logan. We have a banquet to prepare.”
• Elizabeth’s lips parted in protest, but Celeste didn’t look back. Logan’s boots clicked on the marble as he stepped inside, the calm before the storm.
• The grand hall of the Sterling estate buzzed with quiet murmurs and sidelong glances as Celeste, Logan, Elizabeth, and Richard entered. But the air wasn’t warm with welcome, it was thick with suspicion and thinly veiled disdain.
• Guests whispered behind their hands, eyes flicking repeatedly to the group, especially to Logan. The name “Pierce” still carried the sting of scandal, a family burned to ashes in the flames of disgrace, rumored dead, their honor shattered. The sight of Logan alive, standing beside Celeste, was a shock that unsettled the fragile social order of Hills Valley.
• “Isn’t that Logan Pierce?” someone murmured, disbelief tinged with contempt.
• “Why would Celeste stoop so low?” another whispered. “Doesn’t she care about her reputation?”
• Even before Logan’s return, Celeste and her family were no strangers to cold shoulders and sharp looks. The lies Clara Fletcher had spread had irreparably tarnished Richard’s family standing in the Sterling Family. But now, with Logan by Celeste’s side, the scorn deepened, festering into open hostility.
• At the far end of the hall, the patriarch of the Sterling family, an imposing figure in his late seventies, barely glanced up as they approached. His eyes closed slowly, as if to will their presence away. The last thing he expected, or wanted was to see the disgraced part of his family walking into his family’s banquet.
• As Celeste and her family moved toward the seating area, Robert, the sharp-tongued second son of the patriarch, stepped forward with a smug smile playing on his lips.
• “You can’t sit there,” Robert said abruptly, blocking their way.
• Celeste looked up, confusion and defiance sparking in her eyes. “Why not?”
• Robert’s grin widened cruelly. “The seating arrangement is clear. It’s based on your contribution to the family.”
• He waved a hand toward the tables, his voice dripping with disdain. “The more valuable your family is, the more you’ve contributed in wealth, influence, and status, the better your seat. Those who’ve given less... well, they sit where they belong.”
• His eyes landed pointedly on Celeste and Logan. “There’s a section for those with little to nothing to offer, that’s where you’ll be.”
• A ripple of laughter echoed nearby, sharp and cutting.
• Celeste’s jaw clenched as she met his gaze. Richard’s hands tightened into fists at his sides.
• Logan stood in disbelief. The Sterlings would go so low as to humiliate Celeste’s family? Was this how bad her situation in the family was?!
• His blood boiled.
• No…
• This can’t continue. Things have to change tonight…
• Meanwhile, Robert was clearly enjoying himself, savoring the horrified expressions on Richard’s face and the rest of the family. He leaned in, a smug grin playing on his lips as he continued.
• “Clearly, you don’t understand the rules here,” Robert said condescendingly. “Let me explain it once more. There are four tables at this banquet, and your seating depends entirely on your family’s contribution to the Sterling estate.”
• He gestured toward the tables. “The first table is reserved for families who have contributed over ten million this year. The second table is for those who gave over five million, the third for over a hundred thousand, and the fourth is for those who contributed less than a ten thousand, or nothing at all.”
• Robert’s eyes locked on the seat Celeste’s family had hoped to take. “That particular seat is claimed by us because we’ve contributed well over ten million this year. So, it’s only logical that we deserve that place.”
• Richard’s jaw clenched tightly, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. Logan, however, remained calm and composed, watching the scene unfold.
• Robert pressed on, his tone dripping with false generosity. “Of course, if your family has assets exceeding ten million, even without contributing, we’d still consider you important enough for a prime seat.”
• He glanced pointedly at Celeste and her family, well aware they lacked such wealth. It was a thinly veiled attempt to humiliate them.
• Elizabeth said nothing, her fingers nervously twisting a strand of hair as shame washed over her. Celeste’s lips pressed into a thin line, she had anticipated such cruelty, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow.
• Robert’s wife then joined in, her voice cold and mocking. “Unfortunately for you, none of that applies here. Your family hasn’t contributed a single dime this year, nor do your assets come close to ten million. Five million? A joke. You’re worth nothing.”
• She sneered. “And your son-in-law? Low-life through and through. You might as well sit at the last table and save us all the trouble.”
• Then, Robert’s son, Charles, stepped forward with a smug look of certainty. “Grandfather,” he said, nodding toward the Sterling patriarch, “Uncle Richard and his family didn’t contribute anything this year. Their company went bankrupt, their reputation’s in shambles, and they owe money left and right. That’s a negative contribution, if anything.”
• He smirked. “It wouldn’t be fair to have them sitting even at the fourth table. Why not create a fifth table for families like that—negative contributors?”
• The room erupted with agreeing murmurs and laughter.
• The patriarch sighed, clearly weary but resigned. “Fine. Let it be as Charles says.”
• Williams, the eldest Sterling son, gave Richard a hard glare. “Go on, sit at the fifth table. Everyone agrees on it.”
• Richard’s eyes blazed with fury but he said nothing, the weight of humiliation settling on him as they moved to obey.
• Just as they began to step aside, Logan’s voice cut through the tension, calm but carrying undeniable power.
• “Which table should a twenty-billion contributor sit at?”
• The entire hall froze. Whispers rippled through the crowd. What did he mean? Who was Logan referring to?
• All eyes snapped to him, waiting for the answer.
• The moment Logan mentioned the “20 billion” contribution, the entire grand hall erupted in laughter. It was sharp, mocking, and unforgiving.
• “Did he just say twenty billion?” one guest scoffed. “Is he trying to run his mouth?”
• “Ha! Even the aristocratic Fletcher family doesn’t have that kind of money!” another jeered.
• A third voice added cruelly, “Maybe he’s lost his mind after all these years. Out of sight, out of sanity and have been probably locked away in some psychiatric hospital!”
• Laughter and whispers swirled around them like a storm.
• Then, someone called out loudly, “Hey, Richard! Did you know your son-in-law’s worth twenty billion?”
• The laughter grew louder.
• Richard, Celeste, and Elizabeth felt their faces burn. The room seemed to tilt , a grand shrew opening wide to swallow them whole. The humiliation was unbearable.
• Yet Logan stood firm, unmoved by the storm of mockery.
• Celeste’s voice trembled as she leaned close, half-taunting, half pleading: “Logan… is it not enough that you talk big at home? I told you, I accepted your love. Don’t embarrass me in front of my grandfather. I brought you here to escape a forced marriage not to make things worse.”
• Logan’s voice was calm but resolute. “Celeste, I really do have twenty billion. You have to believe me.”
• No one cared to listen. Logan’s words fell on deaf ears.
• Suddenly, all eyes snapped to the entrance as a new figure strode in. This was Carl, the son-in-law of Williams, the Sterling family’s eldest.
• With a smug smile, Carl said, “Sorry to have kept everyone waiting.”
• Robert rushed over, his tone curious, “Why was your flight delayed?”
• Carl shrugged, “A big shot just landed in Hills Valley. The airport was sealed for hours because of him.”
• A murmur ran through the guests. “Who could cause such a stir?”
• Robert asked eagerly, “Who’s this big shot that shut down the airport?”
• Logan watched silently as the men around him spoke with knowing nods, unaware of the true power at play.
• Carl continued, “It’s no ordinary man. A hundred planes escorted his private jet. Hundreds of security personnel blocked the airport.”
• Gasps echoed through the hall.
• Carl went on, “He is known as the Supreme Commander. He’s the commander of some powerful units— the man who conquered nations and is now back on home soil.”
• Carl grinned confidently. “I’ll ask the commander to support the Sterling family soon. That’ll secure our foothold in Hills Valley.”
• The Sterling patriarch’s eyes lit with excitement.
• “How do you know this commander?” he asked Carl.
• Charles, Carl’s brother-in-law, chimed in proudly, “My brother-in-law is something special.”
• Guests buzzed with admiration, praising Carl as “one of a kind,” showering him with respect.
• Celeste’s heart sank with jealousy, while Elizabeth and Richard exchanged envious glances.
• But Logan remained unreadable, quietly chuckling inside.
• He thought to himself, Carl must be something special to know all this about me. Impressive, indeed — or just full of hot air.
• Then, with the attention fully on Carl, Logan finally spoke.
• “You’re saying you know the commander?” he asked, voice sharp.
• All eyes turned to Logan.
• Carl nodded confidently. “Yeah, we had dinner once. What’s the problem?”
• Logan smiled coldly, a stiff chuckle escaping him. “If you’ve met the commander, why don’t I recognize you?”