Tattooed in Moonlight

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The dining hall glittered like a stage set.

Crystal chandeliers dripped light across the long mahogany table, polished so smooth it could've doubled as a mirror. Silverware gleamed, wine glasses sparkled, floral arrangements exploded in shades of gold and crimson. It was luxury designed to impress, to intimidate, to remind everyone they were in the belly of power.

And I had been stupid enough to think this was going to be a family dinner.

"Oh, no," I muttered under my breath as we entered.

Because seated around the table weren't just relatives.

They were senators. Cabinet secretaries. Governors. Business cronies. Every power-hungry name tied to my father's administration, every politician who had fattened their pockets while Filipinos drowned in debt.

Men with smiles too wide, women with diamonds heavy enough to buy a barangay. All of them turned, eyes narrowing at me, then sliding to Travis.

I recognized most of them from the Palace dinners I used to endure. Men who laughed too loud at my father's jokes, who kissed my mother's hand while slipping contracts under the table. Men who saw me as a photo-op accessory, a daughter to be paraded for optics.

I'd hated them then. I hated them now.

I leaned toward Kelrick as he guided us forward, my voice dry as sand. "Funny, Kuya. I thought this was a birthday dinner. Didn't realize you were catering for the entire thieves' guild."

Kelrick's smile didn't waver. "And miss the chance to show the country we are united? Little sister, you wound me."

"Don't tempt me," I muttered.

Travis's hand brushed the small of my back, steady, grounding. I glanced at him—calm, unreadable, suit perfect, gaze slicing through the room like he'd already calculated the net worth, the weakness, the leverage of every guest present.

Heaven glided in beside us, flawless in her ivory gown, her voice smooth as silk. "Everyone was eager to meet the famous couple. After all, why waste an opportunity?"

I snorted. "Oh, yes. Nothing says birthday fun like political photo ops and thinly veiled power plays."

Her smile didn't budge.

Rickon tugged at my skirt, beaming. "Auntie, you can sit next to me!"

I softened for half a second, ruffling his hair. "Thanks, buddy. You might be the only genuine one here."

We took our seats. Me beside Rickon, Travis on my other side. Across the table sat Kelrick and Heaven, the perfect hosts in their kingdom of corruption.

The clink of glasses signaled the start of the dinner. Laughter rose, cameras flashed, and everywhere I looked, faces turned—some mocking, some curious, some outright hostile.

One senator leaned toward another, not even bothering to lower his voice. "Imagine... the President's daughter, arm in arm with his loudest critic. Bold. Or foolish."

"Both," the other replied with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they'd get stuck in the chandelier.

Kelrick raised his wine glass, smile razor-sharp. "To family," he declared. "And to courage."

Everyone chuckled politely, eyes sliding toward me.

I gripped my glass, biting back a retort. To hypocrisy, I thought.

But Travis?

Travis lifted his glass too. Calm. Smooth. Dangerous.