5

Three days later

Sean Miller sipped his expensive whiskey with a sickening smile. Amidst the roar of the ballroom at The Pierre, he felt like a god. His arm was draped around Patricia’s waist, his hand occasionally stroking her stomach in a gesture deliberately flaunted toward the reporters' cameras.

They paid no mind to the flashes of light or the judgmental whispers from gala guests branding Patricia a traitor. Patricia herself beamed with pride; she had finally secured the man she wanted.

"You look remarkably happy, Sean," Robert, a business colleague, chuckled. "So, where is Niana? I mean, I don't mean to pry, but I heard she didn't leave with a single cent?"

Sean let out a discordant laugh, his eyes glinting coldly. "Niana? She was just a parasite who finally realized her place. She has no business talent, no connections, and frankly... she lacks the class to even stand in this room. I gave her enough money to survive in some dingy flat. That’s more than enough for a woman like her."

Patricia chimed in with a forced, pampered tone. "It’s quite tragic. But at least now Sean is with me. I won't let the Miller Group be managed by hands that tremble with fear every time they see a balance sheet."

Just as Sean was about to respond, the ballroom’s double doors swung open. It wasn't a loud entrance; rather, it was the sudden silence that swept through the room. As if a gravitational wave had shifted, every head turned in one direction.

The footsteps were slow but commanding. Each click of high heels on the marble floor sounded like a countdown to Sean’s ruin.

Niana entered wearing a black Vera Wang gown that hugged her curves provocatively yet elegantly. Her hair was swept into a sleek updo, accentuating her long neck adorned with a black diamond Van Doren necklace.

Sean’s heart hammered reflexively. A fleeting moment of admiration surfaced, only to be instantly smothered by his wounded ego.

"What?! That’s Niana," Robert exclaimed, patting Sean’s shoulder. "Who could have brought her here? Did you invite her?"

Sean removed Patricia’s hand from his thigh and stood up.

"Niana?" Sean stepped forward, breaking through the crowd of guests. His face was flushed crimson, his sense of authority feeling challenged.

"Wow, is that Niana? She’s stunning!"

"Her aura is so different, and she just divorced Sean!"

"Is she with someone more powerful now? Why is she here?"

The murmurs grew, fueling the fire in Sean’s chest. He didn't waste a moment before intercepting her path. Niana’s two bodyguards moved to close in, but she raised a hand, signaling them to let the man who had broken her stand before her.

"How dare you show your face here? Who gave you this rental dress? And these two bodyguards... how much is this vagrant paying you to follow her around?"

Patricia hurried over, standing haughtily beside Sean. "Niana, you are absolutely shameless!"

"I have no business with you, Patricia. And Sean, what did you just say? A vagrant?" She looked him up and down as if inspecting filth on the bottom of her shoe. "I slept beside you for three years, Sean, and you still can't tell the difference between a rental and a Van Doren family heirloom?"

"Van Doren?" Patricia laughed hysterically, trying to mask her growing fear. "Stop hallucinating, Niana! You’re just the daughter of a bankrupt man whose mother ran off to god knows where!"

The sound of the slap was so sharp it echoed through the entire hall. Niana had struck Patricia across the face.

"Watch your mouth, you cheap mistress," Niana hissed. Her voice was low but sharp as a razor. "You are standing on property that my family has paid the taxes on for the last fifty years. Why do you think your husband was able to secure this ballroom for the peak of the gala season? Because my mother allowed it."

Sean let out a cynical laugh, though sweat began to bead on his forehead. "Your mother? The woman who abandoned you? Niana, you’ve truly gone mad from the divorce. You need a psychiatrist, not a gala stage."

Niana didn't respond with rage. Instead, she leaned in close to Sean, until their noses nearly touched. The masculine scent she once adored now made her skin crawl.

"Do you want to know why I stayed silent while you stole the Prescott assets?" Niana whispered in his ear, loud enough for those nearby to hear. "Because those assets were already rotten, Sean. I intentionally let you take them so you’d be trapped in the tax debt and vendor lawsuits I’ve been preparing for six months. You didn't steal my company. You just picked up the trash I threw away."

Sean’s face drained from red to a ghostly white. "What... what do you mean?"

Niana pulled out her phone, showing a notification from an international bank. "At this very second, the Miller Group has been declared in default because the collateral you provided—the Prescott assets—turned out to be disputed property. And guess who the original owner of the land your main factory sits on is?"

Niana gave him a sweet smile, the most beautiful smile Sean had ever seen, and the deadliest.

"Me, Sean. Under the name of the Van Doren Group. Starting tomorrow morning, you won't even have an office to go to."

"You... you trapped me?!" Sean roared, reaching out to grab her shoulders, but the two bodyguards immediately stepped in front of Niana, blocking his hands with brutal efficiency.

"Don't touch me with hands that just touched that woman," Niana said, glancing at Patricia with disgust. "You called me a parasite, Sean? Now look at yourself. You have no home, no office, and very soon... you won't even have a name."

Patricia fainted from the shock, collapsing onto the marble floor. Panic erupted; the event hadn't even started, yet it had been given a blistering dramatic opening.

But Sean didn't even look at her. His eyes were fixed solely on Niana.

"Why, Niana? Why are you doing this to me?! Your cheap drama isn't funny!" Sean wailed, his voice breaking in front of Manhattan’s entire elite.

"Just take care of your fainted woman and don't ruin this charity event. Goodnight," Niana said.

She walked toward the VVIP section at the very front, reserved for only three special guests.

Sean shouted at the top of his lungs, "Security, help me! Why are you just standing there! Get her to a hospital immediately!"

Niana, that bitch, she truly destroyed my reputation as an investor in this gala! What does she want?! Why are the Prescott assets disputed now?! Damn it, she’s really playing games with this stupid story, Sean thought.

As Sean was about to follow the security guards carrying Patricia’s body out, he caught sight of something that had fallen from Niana’s bag when she turned away.

It was a small object, wrapped in the blue silk cloth Niana always kept near their pillows. He grabbed the item and opened it as he walked. Sean’s eyes bulged as he saw an ultrasound photo.

It was dated March 20, 2022. Patient name: Niana Miller. Beneath the image of a tiny dot, barely visible yet undeniable, was Niana’s elegant handwriting: "Anniversary surprise for the beloved father-to-be, Sean. We are becoming three."

Sean’s world came to a dead stop.

"What the fuck!?" Sean muttered.