Chapter 4 - The Revelation
The massive ballroom erupted into a frenzy of shocked gasps and frantic whispers.
Spencer stared at the host in absolute horror, his face draining of all color.
He looked back at me, his eyes pleading for this to be some kind of elaborate prank.
Paisley nervously tugged on Spencer's expensive gray suit sleeve.
"Spencer, what is going on here?" she asked, her voice shrill and trembling.
I smiled warmly and stepped around Carter to face my deceitful husband.
"Allow me to formally introduce myself to your lovely mistress," I said loudly enough for the surrounding crowd to hear.
"My name is Phoebe Harrell, and my family practically owns this entire city."
Spencer looked like he was going to vomit right there on the expensive hotel carpet.
He reached out desperately, begging me to listen to him and forgive his foolish mistake.
"Phoebe, darling, please, you are my loving wife," Spencer pleaded, his voice dripping with pathetic desperation.
I laughed coldly, the sound cutting through the tension in the room like a sharp knife.
"I am not your darling, and I will not be your wife by tomorrow morning," I declared.
I turned to the crowd of wealthy investors, politicians, and CEOs.
"This man left me at home tonight because he said I would only embarrass him," I announced clearly.
I pointed a perfectly manicured finger directly at Paisley's champagne-colored gown.
"He decided to bring his mistress instead, wearing jewelry purchased with company funds."
The investors around us immediately began stepping away from Spencer as if he were carrying a contagious disease.
Spencer frantically tried to deny the accusations, claiming I was just jealous and emotionally unstable.
Then, the main ballroom doors opened one more time with a dramatic, heavy thud.
My father, Raymond Harrell, walked into the room radiating absolute power and authority.
May you like
He did not come alone to this glittering celebration of wealth.
He was accompanied by six federal agents wearing dark jackets and stern expressions.
