The moment we stepped out of the room, we were greeted by an explosion of excitement and admiration. People were clapping, cheering, and chanting Alex's name as if he were some kind of hero-and, in a way, he was. It was as though his speech had ignited a fire in everyone, especially those who had been stifling their own dreams and desires to live up to their parents' expectations.

Students swarmed around Alex, telling him how much his words meant to them. Some even confided that they had dreams they'd hidden away, hobbies they had abandoned, or goals they thought they could never pursue because of family pressure. Alex's courage seemed to give them a voice they hadn't known they needed.

And then, something even more surprising happened. Out of nowhere, Charlotte reached for Thomas's hand and intertwined her fingers with his. They were standing right in the middle of the crowd, Charlotte leaning into Thomas, her face glowing as he looked down at her with pure adoration. People around us gasped, eyes widening as they registered the two of them together, openly, without the usual secrecy or caution. It was a sight that sent ripples of murmurs through the crowd; the untouchable Charlotte Beaumont was now standing hand-in-hand with someone deemed "not good enough" by her family.

Maeve chuckled and whispered to me, "Now that's a sight I never thought I'd see. Those two... wow."

I smiled back, feeling the hope and unity of the moment. For a brief, wonderful period, everything felt perfect-Alex had made his stand, Charlotte was finally embracing her love for Thomas, and we all felt like we'd broken through the suffocating walls of society's expectations.

But the bliss was short-lived.

Out of nowhere, a sleek, black limousine pulled up in front of the university. The shiny vehicle was imposing, almost like a predator waiting to strike. And the moment I saw it, dread filled my stomach. I knew exactly who it was.

The chauffeur opened the door, and out stepped David Beaumont, Alex's father, his face a mask of cold fury. The crowd fell silent as his imposing figure strode toward us. Without hesitation, he cut through the sea of students, his eyes locked on Alex with a fiery, furious glare.

"Alex!" he barked, his voice slicing through the silence like a knife.

Before any of us could react, David raised his hand and slapped Alex across the face. The sound echoed in the stunned silence, the harsh smack sending a chill through everyone watching. Alex stumbled back, his face turning red where David's palm had landed, shock and anger flaring in his eyes. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, and people scrambled to pull out their phones, recording the scene unfolding before them.

Without thinking, I stepped between them, my body shielding Alex from his father. My heart raced, but I refused to back down. I felt the anger rising in me as I glared at David, my own heart pounding with outrage. He looked at me, disdain etched into every line of his face.

"Move aside," he demanded, his voice filled with cold authority. "This doesn't concern you, girl."

But I stood my ground. "It does concern me," I replied firmly, my voice unwavering. "You have no right to treat your son like this."

David's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a sneer. "You think you can talk to me, you little nobody?" he spat, his tone laced with contempt. "You're a poverty-stricken girl who shouldn't even be sharing the same air as my family."

That was it. I felt something snap within me, a fierce determination mixed with all the frustration of every time I'd been looked down upon, dismissed, or belittled by people like him.

"Mr. Beaumont," I began, my voice clear and steady despite the anger boiling within me, "I know my worth. I know that I've worked hard to get where I am today, and I don't need a single word from you to validate my existence. I'm proud of who I am-of being an excellent student, a good friend, and a supportive daughter and sister. I don't need some old man who barely knows my name to make me feel small because of my social status."

His eyes flashed with irritation, but I continued, refusing to be intimidated. "Look around you. These people are cheering for Alex because he's courageous enough to stand up for himself and what he believes in. And where did he learn that strength from? Certainly not from a father who's only ever cared about his own status."

David's face darkened with anger as I went on. "You're the one who should look in the mirror, Mr. Beaumont. You act like you're above everyone else, but all your power and wealth were handed to you on a golden platter. You didn't build your empire with hard work-it was your father, Alex's grandfather, who gave it all to you. Meanwhile, I'm only 20, and I've worked harder than you ever have in your fifty years. I know what it means to earn something with my own two hands, to value people for who they are, not for what they can give me."

David's jaw clenched, his hand twitching as though he was about to strike me, too. But I pressed on, undeterred. "If you want to slap your son for finally having the courage to stand up for himself, then you'll have to go through me first," I said, my voice low but strong. "Because Alex has done something you never could-he's stood for what he believes in. And that, Mr. Beaumont, makes him a far better man than you."

David's mouth twisted in fury, and for a moment, it looked as though he might raise his hand against me. But just then, another voice cut through the tension, firm and authoritative.

"David!" a deep, commanding voice called out.

Everyone turned to see an older man, dignified and powerful, striding across the campus lawn toward us, leaning slightly on a silver-handled cane. His face was lined with age but radiated a sharp intelligence, and his presence commanded immediate respect. People whispered and gasped in recognition, and I realized with a shock that it was Alex's grandfather-Charles Beaumont, the original founder of the family empire.

David took a step back, clearly taken off guard by his father's sudden appearance.

"Father?" David stammered, his voice losing some of its bravado.

Charles Beaumont looked at his son with a piercing, disappointed gaze. "Enough, David," he said sternly. "This behavior is disgraceful. Slapping your son in front of the entire school-what kind of father are you?"

David swallowed, his posture stiffening defensively. "Father, you don't understand. Alex has humiliated the family. He's rebelling against everything we stand for!"

Charles's gaze was unyielding as he shook his head. "Everything you stand for, David, perhaps. But that is not how I raised you."

Charles turned, his gaze softening as he looked at Alex, who was still standing there, red-faced and visibly shaken. "Alex, my boy," Charles said gently, "I saw your speech. I watched you stand up there and speak your truth, and I have never been more proud. You showed more courage in those few minutes than most people ever manage in a lifetime."

David tried to interrupt, his voice laced with indignation. "But Father, he's-"

"Enough!" Charles snapped, his voice like a whip. "Your son has the right to follow his dreams, to live his life on his own terms. Just as I once did when I built this empire from the ground up, against all odds."

David faltered, clearly taken aback. His father's words had shaken him more than anything I'd said.

"Alex," Charles continued, ignoring David's stunned expression, "being in love, pursuing your passion for art, those are not crimes. Those are the things that make life worth living. I have more respect for you now than I ever had for your father."

The crowd murmured, whispers and gasps filling the air as they absorbed Charles's words. He looked around, his voice carrying a quiet but unbreakable strength. "I built this company with hard work, and I will not see it turned into a prison for my own family. Alex, my dear boy, if following your heart means going against your father's wishes, then so be it. I stand with you."

A stunned silence filled the space as Charles's words sank in. Then, slowly, people began to clap. The applause spread, growing louder and louder, until it became a full-blown standing ovation. Even Charlotte and Thomas, their hands still clasped tightly, joined in, their eyes glistening with gratitude and pride.

Alex looked at his grandfather, emotion shining in his eyes. "Thank you, Grandfather," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "That means everything to me."

Charles nodded, his gaze warm as he reached out to place a hand on Alex's shoulder. "I've seen the fire in you, Alex. You remind me of myself when I was young. Now, don't let anyone snuff it out-not even your father."

David, visibly shaken and humiliated, stood there, his face a mixture of fury and disbelief. He tried to muster one last retort, but it was clear he had lost. He turned on his heel, retreating to the limo with his tail between his legs, his pride shattered.

As the limousine drove away, the crowd erupted into cheers once again. Charlotte rushed over to Alex, pulling him into a tight hug, her tears flowing freely. Maeve and Julia clapped him on the back, Max and Dan cheering