Chapter 2: Just another woman clinging to a last name

Nobody. That was all she was to the man she had given everything to.

"Did you just call me a nobody?" Anna blinked, taken aback.

Margaret smirked. "Don’t you have something to do, Anna? Adrian might need you at home." She clasped her hands. "As you can see, this place isn’t for people like you..."

Anna smiled—a bitter smile.

"Not for someone like me?" she thought. If Margaret wanted to start her bitchy attitude today and take her son’s side, then she better be ready.

What Anna did next shocked them all. She took a vacant seat next to Andy, a big smile on her lips as she silently marked her territory.

The smile on Penelope’s face faltered. She subtly shifted her body, creating a bit of space between herself and Andy. But Andy wasn’t fazed by Anna’s presence.

"This party isn’t just for the company’s anniversary," Andy announced with a big grin on his handsome face.

"It’s also a celebration of our recently completed project," he added. "It was a massive success." His eyes roamed over Penelope—adoring. "It wouldn’t have been possible without you, Mrs. Kings."

So the stunning business mogul who’s caught my husband’s attention is a married woman, Anna sighed, relieved her worst fear wasn’t true.

Maybe I’m just being jealous for nothing. Andy wouldn’t leave me for a married woman. He wouldn’t… right? No. Even Andy isn’t that low… is he?

"That’s right," Margaret cooed, dragging Anna out of her thoughts. "A successful man deserves a successful woman by his side. And I think Penelope is perfect for him."

Everyone smiled and nodded as if Anna didn’t exist at the table. They were openly matching her husband with another man’s wife.

Anna had so much to say, but bit her tongue. Her blood boiled. She wanted to slap the old bitch she called her mother-in-law, but she knew better. That wouldn’t be wise.

"The world needs more successful, powerful women," Margaret continued. "Not some damned liabilities living off marriage certificates." Her gaze locked on Anna—piercing, cold, provoking.

Anna’s hand trembled under the table. She wiped her sweaty palms on her gown.

God, help me. Give me the patience to endure this woman for just one more minute, or I’ll forget myself and leave my handprint on her Botox-filled face, she prayed.

"Take a look at Sophia," Margaret went on, gesturing toward her daughter—a sexy brunette in a tiny red dress, skin smooth like milk and honey. "She’s making waves in the media. I’m so proud of you, my darling."

"Thanks, Mum," Sophia replied, flashing a dazzling smile. Her perfect white teeth annoyed Anna more than they impressed her. She watched in silence, sipping her wine.

"And my daughter Adeline," Margaret added, pointing at her second daughter, a stunning blonde in a sleek black-and-white outfit.

"She’s the queen of the corporate world," Margaret declared proudly, basking in her own reflected glory.

Adeline just smiled, too busy with her steak to care.

Then Margaret’s gaze landed on Anna, eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

"What about you, Anna? What do you have to show for yourself? What have you achieved—aside from sticking your wretched ass to my son’s shadow?"

Anna froze. The attack was direct now. No more passive jabs.

She searched for words. Something. Anything. But nothing came.

What have I achieved? Aside from pain, insults, and public humiliation? What was there to be proud about ?

Margaret extended her palm, urging Anna to speak. But Anna couldn’t. Her mouth opened, but no sound came. Her throat tightened as tears welled.

"You see?" Margaret laughed, wicked and satisfied. "You’ve built nothing. You are nothing. Just another woman clinging to a last name."

Anna blinked back tears. Every word hit like a dart to the soul.

She looked to Andy for support. Maybe he'd tell his mother to stop. Maybe he'd say something. But he didn’t. He just watched, smirking.

Anna stood, her legs shaky beneath her.

She didn’t belong here. No one had to tell her.

Without a word, she grabbed her silver clutch and walked away, eyes burning. Her steps were faster than she intended. She just needed to get away.

She wouldn’t break down in front of them. She refused to let them see her cry.

Outside, it was windy and dark. The sky growled, and she could smell rain on the horizon.

She flagged down a passing car without checking if it was a taxi or not . She didn’t care. She just needed to leave.

The driver opened the door, and Anna climbed in like someone escaping a burning building.

She clutched her chest, as if holding herself together could stop her from shattering. Margaret’s words rang in her ears on repeat.

The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror. All he saw was a broken woman. Her beautiful hazel eyes were red and stormy.

"Are you alright, ma’am?" he asked gently, his brows creased with concern.

"I’m fine," she whispered, voice cracking with the lie.

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

"Just drive," she snapped, harsher than intended.

Shit. Anna held her head in her hands. She hadn’t meant to take it out on him.

"I’m sorry," she muttered. "Please, just take me somewhere. Anywhere. A club, a bar."

"Alright," the driver nodded. He started the engine, and the car roared to life.

At that moment, Anna stopped holding back. She let the tears fall, just as the rain began to pour.