After the divorce,the I became the richest heiress

~Olivia's POV~

“Where the hell are you, Damien? The event started over thirty minutes ago. Answer your damn phone.”

I stared at my phone screen for a second before hitting send.

I paced back and forth in the empty restroom, trying to gather my thoughts.

We were hosting an important charity gala tonight, one of the biggest of the social season in the city, and my husband, the man who was supposed to stand by my side as co-host, was nowhere to be found.

My eyes fell on my reflection in the mirror, and I stilled, staring back at the woman in that perfect, elegant black gown. My makeup was flawless, and expensive jewelry adorned my neck and ears.

Absolutely nothing was out of place on the surface. And yet everything still felt out of place deep inside me.

The door suddenly swung open, pulling me from my thoughts, and I turned to see a woman stepping in.

She looked slightly surprised to see me.

“Good evening, Mrs. Ashford,” she greeted warmly.

I quickly composed my expression, slipping into a polite smile.

“Good evening. How are you enjoying the event so far?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful, Mrs. Ashford. You and Mr. Ashford have really done a great job this year. The venue looks stunning, and the cause... well, everyone’s talking about it.”

“Thank you.” My voice stayed calm and soft. “I’ll meet you back outside,” I said, already moving toward the door before she could bring up any questions about Damien's whereabouts.

When I re-entered the ballroom, the event was buzzing with laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft glow of crystal chandeliers adorning the high ceiling.

An even brighter smile spread across my face.

A facade I had perfected over the years as the perfect wife and woman in our elite circle. But all of it was fake, of course.

Every gracious nod and measured laugh concealed the growing cracks in my marriage.

And still, there was a glimmer of hope that everything would change once Damien learned that I was pregnant. I was finally going to tell him about it after this event.

“Congratulations, Olivia,” a middle-aged woman greeted as she approached me with her husband.

She was a longtime business acquaintance of ours.

“Thank you, Moriah,” I replied, forcing that sweet smile to hold.

“I couldn’t help but notice that Damien hasn’t made an appearance yet,” she said, her brow furrowing slightly. “Do you know where he might be?”

The question left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“He will be here any minute. We took different cars. I think his car must be stuck in traffic.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” she nodded, though doubt still lingered in her eyes.

“I need to attend to the other guests,” I said smoothly.

While I greeted the other guests, my gaze landed on a familiar face, and my smile instantly turned sour.

Adrian Voss.

The billionaire narcissistic asshole and, of course, my husband's number one nemesis.

I picked up a glass of champagne as I made my way over.

"I wasn't expecting you to make an appearance," I muttered, handing him the glass.

"I've been known to always do the unexpected, Olivia," he replied as a cunning smirk tilted the corner of his lips.

"Only my close friends call me by my first name, Mr. Voss. I would appreciate it if you did the same."

"My apologies, Olivia." He went on to repeat it. "Slip of the tongue. I can't seem to help myself."

I had the strong urge to pour the glass of champagne he was refusing to take all over his face, but I restrained myself from doing something rash.

"Enjoy the event," I muttered between gritted teeth as I spun around and began walking away.

"By all means," he said, and I could feel his eyes burning into my bare back since the gown I wore that evening left it completely exposed.

More congratulations came from guests left and right, but I had no real interest in any of it.

I had to find Damien’s mother, Margaret.

My eyes swept through the crowd until I finally spotted her speaking with a gentleman, a sultry smile on her lips. I made my way over.

“Could you please excuse us? I would like to speak to my mother-in-law. Family matter,” I said to the man, who immediately nodded and moved away.

The second he left, the smile dropped from my face, and I faced Margaret.

“Where is Damien?”

“How should I know? Isn’t he your husband?” she shot back.

“I’ve tried calling him several times, but he isn’t answering. I’m starting to get worried.”

She placed her champagne glass on the tray of a passing server, then hissed at me.

“Olivia, we aren’t exactly friends. I hope you understand that. If you can’t find your husband, then go out and look for him. Damien isn’t a child. He can make his way to his own charity event.” A wicked smile curved on her lips. “Unless this is just you being jealous and thinking he’s probably in the arms of another woman.”

My eyes narrowed.

“You seem to know something I don’t. Are you and Damien planning something tonight?”

A brief flicker of emotion crossed her eyes for just a split second before vanishing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I was about to press her with another question when I caught sight of Damien at the entrance of the ballroom.

But he wasn’t alone.

Latched onto his arm was Vivian, clinging to him like they were a couple.

“Looks like your husband finally arrived,” Margaret leaned in and whispered against my ear before walking away, heading toward Damien.

My knuckles clenched, my fingers digging into my palms as I forced myself to move forward too.

Most of the guests were already turning that way, especially since Damien had arrived not only with another woman on his arm but had also let the press inside to snap photos of him and Vivian.

What the hell is going on?

I walked over to where they stood.

“Damien,” I called.

He momentarily looked at me, the easy smile on his face faltering for a split second.

“Oh, Olivia. It’s you.”

I stepped closer so the people around wouldn't catch on to what I was about to say.

“Why are you late for your own charity event? And why are you arriving with her?” My gaze fell on Vivian, who only clung to him tighter at the question.

“We will talk about this later, Olivia. Don’t try to ruin this night for me,” he said, his tone low and edged with a cold warning.

He brushed past me with Vivian, who flashed me a mocking smirk.

Damien strode toward the small stage at the front of the ballroom, Vivian still hooked around his arm like a desperate leech.

As I watched him go, a painful knot formed in my stomach, but I shoved it aside and followed behind them.

The chatter gradually died down as guests turned their attention toward him, while camera flashes burst from the press gathered near the entrance, capturing every single movement.

Reaching the podium, Damien gently disentangled himself from Vivian before stepping in front of the microphone, while I stood there beside the woman in question.

He adjusted the microphone slightly, then tapped it twice.

"Good evening, everyone," he began, a confident smile spreading across his face. "First of all, I'd like to thank each and every one of you for attending tonight's charity gala. Your generosity and continued support mean more than words can express."

I stood frozen, unable to shake the feeling that this wasn't just a normal welcome speech.

"I would also like to give a special appreciation to the woman who matters most in the world to me..."

My breath hitched in my throat when he turned toward my direction, but his gaze shifted to Vivian.

"You have been my muse and source of motivation in my darkest moments, Vivian," he said, stretching out a hand toward her. "...and I want nothing more than to take care of you and our baby growing inside you."

My eyes went wide. It was as if somebody had just emptied a drum of freezing water over me, yet a wave of dizziness hit me almost instantly that I staggered backward before barely managing to steady myself.

Vivian strode over to him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist before his lips came down on hers.

Applause erupted throughout the ballroom, while I stood there, shaken to my very bones.

Why were they clapping for a man who had just introduced his mistress in front of his wife like it was nothing?

I clutched the sides of my gown and quickly made my way down from the podium.

To think Damien would humiliate me like this after seven years of marriage, and the same elite circle that I took as my friends would congratulate him for it.

Hot humiliation burned inside me as I made my way out, pushing through the crowd of people and even the press, who tried to stop me with questions at the entrance.

I refused to cry in front of these people or in front of the cameras waiting to capture the moment I would finally break down because of a man who had just flushed seven years of our lives down the drain.