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Preparing for the Gala
Last Updated:
2025-07-15 06:01:36
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I DIVORCED HIM! NOW, HE REGRETS THE RUDE REJECTION
CHAPTER 152 – THE RUDE REJECTIONGunther didn’t leave right away. I could feel his stare digging into my back even after Grace had been escorted out. The crowd began to move again, whispering under the soft thrum of violins. Everyone wanted to pretend nothing happened, but their eyes kept flicking toward us like we were the last scene in a scandalous play.I turned to grab my clutch, ready to leave before I did something criminal—like pour champagne on his overpriced shoes—but then I heard his voice again. Smooth, deep, too confident.“Maya Perkins.”I turned slowly. “You have got to be kidding me.”He smiled—no, smirked—like the universe owed him attention. His tie was loosened now, and his arrogance had settled into something darker. “You know, you’ve got quite the attitude for someone who serves dessert for a living.”I arched a brow. “And you’ve got quite the ego for someone who got beaten by a macaron.”The words hit, and I knew it because the corner of his mouth twitched. But in
I DIVORCED HIM! NOW, HE REGRETS THE PRICE OF A MACARON
CHAPTER 151 – THE PRICE OF A MACARONI turned slowly—only to see him.Gunther.He was back. And this time, he wasn’t alone. Two bulky men in black suits flanked him, both built like refrigerators with faces carved from concrete. The crowd instinctively parted again, whispering like waves against the ballroom walls.“Are you kidding me?” I muttered under my breath.Gunther’s expression was carved in fury, his jaw tight, his eyes gleaming with something dark and vindictive. The smear of frosting was gone, but the red mark of humiliation wasn’t. Not from his cheek—and definitely not from his pride.He stopped a few feet away, his polished shoes gleaming under the chandelier light. The silence was thick, brittle, dangerous. You could practically taste the gossip buzzing through the air.“What’s going on?” I asked, though I already knew.“Throw her out of here,” Gunther barked, pointing directly at Grace.The words cut through the air like shards of glass. Gasps scattered across the room —
I DIVORCED HIM! NOW, HE REGRETS THE AFTERMATH OF THE MACARON
CHAPTER 150 – THE AFTERMATH OF THE MACARON“Who did that?!” Gunther’s voice cracked through the ballroom like a whip.The crowd parted slightly — everyone pretending they weren’t staring while very obviously staring. The room shimmered with chandeliers and gossip; even the violins faltered, like they were afraid to play the wrong note in this kind of tension.I turned just in time to see Grace standing there, posture straight, her face calm as a saint’s — except for that mischievous spark dancing in her eyes. She didn’t even flinch.I laughed. Loudly.“Sorry, it slipped,” she said innocently, even though we both knew she had the aim of a trained assassin. That macaron hadn’t “slipped” — it had landed with intention.The laughter escaped me again, full-bodied this time. It was the first real laugh I’d had all night — sharp and cleansing, like someone had opened a window in a stuffy room.Gunther’s face, meanwhile, was a spectacular shade of crimson. The frosting still clung to his chee
I DIVORCED HIM! NOW, HE REGRETS THE MACARONS STRIKES BACK
CHAPTER 149 – THE MACARON STRIKES BACK“Now then,” Gunther said, adjusting his cufflinks like the room belonged to him, “before we were rudely interrupted…” His gaze flicked to Grace, then back to me with a smirk that made my blood crawl. “I would like to date you.”For a moment, I thought I misheard him.“Sorry, what?”He leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it sound conspiratorial. “I said, I would like to date you, Maya. Think about it — you and I. Power meets legacy. Beauty meets business.”He said it like a business pitch, not a confession. His words didn’t hold warmth, just entitlement — like he was offering me a deal, not a choice.I stared at him, blankly at first. Then the disbelief bubbled up. “To that I say…” I set down my glass, slow and deliberate, “no.”His face froze, then he laughed — an ugly, condescending kind of laugh that grated against the soft jazz playing in the background. “No?”“Yeah.” I tilted my head. “Short word, big meaning.”He blinked li
I DIVORCED HIM! NOW, HE REGRETS THE MACARON AND THE MOUTH
CHAPTER 148 – THE MACARON AND THE MOUTH“Sorry I haven’t—”“I won’t blame you,” Gunther cut in smoothly, his tone already dripping with that entitled arrogance money always seemed to breed. “I heard you’ve been frolicking with the poor.”My smile froze mid-sentence. “Excuse me?”“Yes.” He smirked, swirling his champagne like he’d been waiting all evening to deliver this line. “Larry, Aleksander, and now… a caterer? Maya, you can do better.”The words dropped like ice cubes into a burning glass. People nearby pretended not to listen, but I could feel their attention sharpen — like wolves catching scent of blood.I blinked, stunned. “Did you just—”He leaned in, his breath reeking of arrogance and overpriced whiskey. “You’ve always had potential,” he said, almost fondly. “But you’re wasting it hanging around people who’ll never be invited into rooms like this.”I wanted to say something sharp — anything — but he kept talking, his voice slicing right over mine.“I’m the one and only heir
I DIVORCED HIM! NOW, HE REGRETS THE DERRERSTS AND THE STRANGERS
CHAPTER 147 — THE DESSERTS AND THE STRANGERMAYA’S POVI shouldn’t have smiled, but I did.Grace stood by the dessert table like she owned the entire catering setup. Her white apron was dusted with powdered sugar, her hair pulled into a loose bun that let a few curls fall around her face. Even from across the room, I could smell the faint sweetness of vanilla mixed with her perfume — something light, like gardenia and rain. The table beside her looked like a painting: éclairs lined in perfect rows, strawberry tarts glistening under the lights, and towers of macarons that looked too pretty to eat.“Wow, Grace! The dessert spread looks amazing,” I said, walking closer, pretending my heart wasn’t doing that stupid skip thing again.Her face brightened instantly when she saw me. “Thank you. It’s the first time our café is catering something this big, so…” she rubbed the back of her neck with a shy smile, “I wanted to do my best.”There was frosting on her wrist. A small streak, barely not
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