Love or Lies?

As soon as Monica finished speaking, she suddenly grabbed my sleeve and began crying, pleading pitifully, "Mrs. Scott, I'm not after the company's money."

She whimpered, "The cash and shares were just rewards from Mr. Scott for my hard work these past years. If you're upset, I can give them back."

Before I could even react, Reynold rushed over and grabbed my hand, demanding, "Adrianna, what you doing? I've told you the bonus and shares are employee benefits. Why are you giving Monica such a hard time?"

I turned to see other employees gathering around, pointing and whispering among themselves. Apparently, they thought I was being unreasonable.

When I looked back at Monica, she was staring at me with a smug expression. I frowned and pulled my arm free.

I replied, "You're the one managing the company. If you want to hand out bonuses and stock, that's your decision. I won't interfere."

Without sparing him another glance, I turned and walked away. Just as I was about to leave the hotel, he chased after me with a displeased look, grabbing my hand.

He growled, "Where are you going? The celebration dinner is about to start! You're not a child, Adrianna. You can't just throw a tantrum like this."

Monica followed him, apologizing with a victimized expression. "Mrs. Scott, don't be angry. I'll return the bonus and the shares after the party. There's no need to fight with Mr. Scott over this."

She added, "You're Mr. Scott's wife, and you should be at the celebration with us. Let's go back inside together."

I noticed the venom behind Monica's eyes and could not help but smirk. She was probably desperate to replace me and become Reynold's wife herself.

Soon, the hotel shuttle arrived, and Reynold and Monica naturally sat side by side. I remained silent and deliberately sat in the back row.

Throughout the ride, Monica kept engaging Reynold in conversations about topics only they shared, constantly highlighting how good Reynold was to her. I felt like an outsider, completely out of place.

Reynold kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror, seeming like he wanted to say something several times. However, Monica kept interrupting him.

When we arrived at the hotel restaurant, some employees who did not recognize me immediately greeted Monica, "Good evening, Mrs. Scott."

"Mrs. Scott, it's been a while! You look even more beautiful."

The atmosphere instantly grew awkward as employees familiar with the situation quickly corrected the new hires, creating an uncomfortable silence. Noticing this, Reynold hurriedly pushed me toward the private dining room, smiling at me in an attempt to appease me.

He urged, "Let's go in. Everyone else is waiting. It's such a joyous occasion, so cheer up. I even prepared you a surprise!"

I let out a cold chuckle. "Got it. I'm looking forward to it. Anyway, I need to use the restroom first. Don't worry about me."

With that, Reynold finally relaxed and headed to the dining room. After he left, I called my lawyer, who informed me that the divorce papers and property division agreement were ready. He even guaranteed that Reynold would end up with nothing.

After hanging up, I pushed open the door to the private room. Monica approached me with a glass of wine.

She said, "Mrs. Scott, let me toast you. You've worked so hard for Mr. Scott all these years, even ruining your health in the process."

As she spoke, she gave me a meaningful once-over. Ignoring her taunt, I replied flatly, "No thanks. I don't feel like drinking. Juice will be fine."

Reynold suddenly frowned. "Adrianna, you can handle alcohol just fine. Why won't you drink? You used to..."

Then, as if he had just remembered something, he hesitated. He probably recalled all those nights when I accompanied him to endless business meetings, drinking, entertaining investors, and singing at private lounges to help him secure deals.

However, Monica acted as if she had not noticed the shift in the atmosphere. She pushed the wine glass in front of me and pressured me to drink as if my refusal was an insult to her.

She said sweetly, "Please, just one sip. For me?"

I suppressed my irritation. "I already said I don't want to drink!"

Reynold's expression gradually darkened. Seeing this, Monica grew even bolder, grabbing my hand to force me to take the glass.

I pulled away forcefully, but she used the momentum to fall to the floor, clutching her stomach. The wine glass shattered on the floor, and Reynold jumped to his feet.

He shouted, "Adrianna, what are you doing?"