Charity Party

Bearing the soreness throughout her body, kimberly got out of bed to wash and dress. She turned on her phone and messages from her secretary, Sally, popped up one after another.

She had a full schedule today but had slept in, delaying many things. Truly, one must not indulge excessively.

Entering the walk-in closet, she saw kiss marks that she couldn't fully cover, scattered all over her body. She clicked her tongue in mild annoyance. The man John had found for her was good in every aspect, but he hadn't been gentle with his kisses, leaving her covered in red marks.

Today she was supposed to attend a charity party, which meant that any off-shoulder dresses were out of the question. She would have to ask Sally to select another haute couture dress that had been previously chosen.

Her delicate hand skimmed over the various dresses still bearing their tags in the wardrobe until she picked out a custom-made suit that covered the marks on her body just right. For the marks on her neck that she couldn't hide, she tied a silk scarf.

Facing the cabinet full of luxury bags, she suddenly remembered the belt from yesterday and reached for the latest model of the Hermès Birkin.

Stepping out in delicate high heels, Kimberly felt unusually awkward walking, as if her legs didn't belong to her.

She had called her driver before leaving the house, and in less than two minutes, he had pulled up to the door and came running to open the car door for her.

Kimberly returned to her company and dove into a busy day's work.

She attended several meetings, big and small, and didn't even have time for lunch before she had to get styled, change into a gown, and make a dash for the afternoon charity event.

She always preferred dresses that were bright and generous, showing off her beautiful collarbone and elegant, fair neck. It was the first time she wore a style that covered up to her neck.

Sally really had her work cut out for her to find this outfit.

She arrived at the party, which had already begun.

The attendees were acquaintances from the same social circle, giving mutual support and exchanging pleasantries. Her face almost stiffened from all the smiling.

Everyone's expression changed subtly when they saw her, carefully avoiding asking why she didn't come with Steven.

However, there were always those who lacked tact. A director's wife from a partner company loudly greeted her, "Mrs. Smith, it's been a while. I just saw Mr. Smith with that movie star. Did I see wrong? There's no trouble between you two, right?"

Kimberly's brows knitted at the question. Steven never attended these kinds of events; he typically sent an assistant instead. She hadn't expected him to be here today.

She was somewhat dissatisfied with Mrs. Gao's probing. Didn't everyone else see? They all knew what to say and what not to. Mrs. Gao was famously gossipy and couldn't keep a secret. If she found out about Kimberly's divorce from Steven, everyone would know by the next day.

Moreover, Kimberly was representing the Wilson family enterprise at this event. To be called by her exhusband's surname, especially when she currently detested the title "Mrs. Smith," was aggravating. Her liking for the title in the past was now matched by her current dislike.

In the world of fame and fortune, her displeasure was fleeting, replaced by a practiced charm.

With a radiant smile, she replied, "Mrs. Gao, are you accompanying Mr. Gao today? I envy you for being able to be a full-time wife. Unlike me, who has to handle such a large business, I'm always busy. I originally asked Miss Jennifer to accompany my husband to the party. But when it comes to charity, contributing a little means a lot. Wilson's has always been attentive to Down syndrome pediatric patients and should undertake its social responsibilities. That's why I made time to attend. My husband probably doesn't know I'm here yet. I'll go give him a surprise."

She looked around and asked, "Mrs. Gao, where did you see my husband just now? I'm going to find him."

Mrs. Gao, though a full-time wife, always feared her husband's infidelity and clung to any event he attended, despite not understanding business matters.

Faced with Kimberly's sharp-tongued response, Mrs. Gao's expression was not very pleasant, but she maintained a forced smile, "I just saw Mr. Smith with the president of Garcia."

Kimberly smiled, her dimples making her look exceptionally charming, "Mrs. Gao, then I'll excuse myself. We should have afternoon tea together another day."

Turning around, Kimberly's expression darkened.

She and Steven's issues were well known within their circle; Steven had an affair with a popular actress, and now he was brazenly attending events with his mistress, as if eager for everyone to know they were divorced. He had promised her that their families wouldn't find out about their separation yet, but now he seemed in a hurry to give his mistress status, perhaps fearing she would feel aggrieved.

Did he even remember his promise to her? Or was he so intent on embarrassing her now? She had relinquished her position as his wife; couldn't they maintain appearances for a little while longer?

Her clear, doe-like eyes scanned the large hall, and over the heads of many guests, she spotted him—Steven, casually seated on a sofa surrounded by executives from various companies, exuding ease. Jennifer was wearing a deep-V evening gown, seated next to him with a coquettish smile, trembling with laughter at their conversation.

Her gaze then drifted to a man sitting not far from Steven to Samuel, the president of Garcia, dressed in a black suit with his long legs crossed, sitting back in the sofa. His hands, defined and graceful, held a glass of wine, his entire demeanor exuding a noble coldness, with a strikingly beautiful woman seated beside him.

Feeling her stare, Samuel suddenly looked up at her. Their eyes met, and a jolt went through Kimberly, but before she could react, Samuel indifferently looked away.

She frowned. Samuel was also here—perhaps today really wasn't a good day to go out. She always encountered unsavory situations around him, Steven's friend who never had a pleasant expression for her. He acted so high and mighty, as if she had wronged him somehow, always wearing that sour face. No matter how handsome, he was hard to like.

His cold and disagreeable temperament alone was enough to trouble anyone; she even felt a bit of sympathy for his future wife.

Kimberly took a deep breath, let it out, and mustered a smile. Her eyes curved like crescents, radiating a warmth that lifted spirits. She picked up her handbag and, in her high heels, sashayed over to where they were.

She maneuvered behind the sofa and leaned over Steven, resting her delicate chin on his broad shoulder, and in a voice loud enough for all to hear, said in a soft, tender manner, "Honey, I was delayed, but I haven't missed it, have I?"

Steven had noticed her from the moment she entered the hall but deliberately ignored her.

She had moved out of their villa and even hung up on him, which irked him somewhat. However, at this moment, he felt an odd sense of comfort from her presence.

Kimberly had this magnetic power—she could easily coax anyone with little effort. Yet with him, she always chose the most stubborn approach. A few soft words would achieve her goal, but she always wanted to stand tough, trying to control him, always opposing him.

Steven didn't reply, instead, he nonchalantly took a sip of his drink, seemingly aiming to embarrass her.

With her arm around him, Kimberly leaned closer, whispering in his ear so that only the two of them could hear, "We had an agreement not to let others know about our divorce just yet. You should keep your word."