Chapter 4
Victor's eyes flickered with guilt, then hardened. "Outstanding employees deserve rewards. You have countless necklaces. Don't be so petty."
He turned to charm the business partners, brushing off the tension. Helene, shedding her earlier vulnerability, smirked. "Thanks to Mr. Grayson's trust, I got my moment to shine."
Her smugness pushed me over the edge. I slapped her across the face.
...
The room fell silent, broken only by Helene's cry. Victor helped her up, glaring. "What is wrong with you?"
Edith stepped in front of Helene. "You're a terrible mom! I hate you!"
Unperturbed, I grabbed a wine glass and took the stage. "Thank you all for coming. I regret to inform you that Mr. Grayson and I are divorcing. This house is mine, not his, but I'll host another event to make amends. Please understand."
I downed the wine in one gulp. The guests, savvy businesspeople, made quick excuses and left.
It was a reminder to Victor of how he had risen to power. Without my family's support, his small company would've gone nowhere. It was I who had facilitated those deals for him.
I'd like to see how he fared without me.
The lively banquet quickly turned desolate, Victor's face ashen with fury. Losing all decorum, he shouted, "You've humiliated me! Do you know what divorce rumors will do to the company? When did you become so petty?"
I watched his outburst calmly, recalling how he'd assumed the same cool detachment when I cried over his closeness with Helene.
Our roles had reversed, and his rage now was comical.
Helene, pale and clutching her stomach, collapsed into his arms. "It's my fault. I'll resign. Don't fight because of me."
"Not your fault," Victor said. "I'll take you to the hospital and throw you another party."
"It's not your fault," Edith echoed. "My mom is just too small-minded."
I laughed and turned to the butler. "Pack their things. Have them out by tomorrow morning."
The butler hesitated. "Madam, isn't this too much? Tempers flare, but this could spiral. They are not easily appeased."
My gaze turned icy as I realized how little even the servants thought of me.
"You're fired!" I spat, walking away.
I grabbed my phone and texted Martin, the butler at my parents' house. He had watched me grow up, and I trusted him wholeheartedly.
[Martin, come over and help me clear out some things.]
[Yes, Miss.]
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