Chapter 9

The next morning arrived in a flurry of activity. An urgent call from the corporate office pulled Taylor away early for an emergency board meeting she couldn't reschedule. Before leaving, she stood by the edge of the bed, perfectly tailored in a slate-grey suit, her dark eyes lingering on me with quiet intensity.

"An emergency came up at the main office," she said, leaning down to cup my cheek lightly. Her warm thumb traced my jawline, sending a subtle spark through my skin. "I won't be able to go with you, but I'll meet you directly at the banquet. Don't worry about getting there; my driver, Henry, will be waiting out front at seven sharp. He knows where to take you."

"I understand," I replied softly, leaning into her touch for a fleeting second.

"Be safe," Taylor whispered, her lips brushing my forehead before she turned and strode out, leaving her signature scent lingering in the cool room.

When evening fell, I found myself standing in front of Taylor’s expansive walk-in closet. Rows of designer gowns, silk blouses, and tailored suits lined the custom oak wardrobes. I hesitated at the threshold, feeling out of place, until my eyes caught a garment bag hanging separately near the vanity a note pinned to the front in elegant, sharp handwriting: For my wife tonight.

I unzipped the bag, and a quiet gasp escaped my lips.

Inside was a breathtaking, emerald-green silk floor-length gown. The deep jewel tone was mesmerising, crafted with a graceful cowl neckline, an understated backless cut, and a daring side slit that balanced elegance with dangerous allure. It was sophisticated, bold, and entirely unlike the quiet, modest clothes Andrew used to make me wear to keep me hidden in the shadows.

I stepped into the gown, feeling the heavy silk glide over my skin like a second layer. I swept my hair into a sleek, sophisticated updo, allowing a few soft strands to frame my face, and finished the look with delicate silver heels and a touch of deep berry lipstick.

When I looked into the full-length mirror, I barely recognised the woman staring back. The pale, fragile victim of yesterday was gone. In her place stood someone radiant, striking, and poised.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I grabbed a black velvet clutch and walked downstairs. The estate was completely silent. I stepped out through the grand front doors into the cool night air, where a sleek black Maybach was parked at the foot of the steps.

A middle-aged driver in a crisp black uniform immediately stepped out, opening the rear door with utmost respect.

"Good evening, Mrs Sophia," he said with a polite bow. "Ms Taylor instructed me to take you directly to your venue."

"Thank you, Henry," I said softly, sliding into the plush leather interior.

The drive across the city was smooth and quiet. I rested my elbow on the armrest, staring out the tinted window as the city lights blurred into streaks of gold and silver. A cold knot tightened in my chest the closer we got to the venue.

My thoughts drifted to my family if they could even be called that. Arthur and Eleanor White had never loved me. From the moment Kate was born, I became an invisible afterthought in my own home. Kate got the praise, the designer dresses, the birthday parties, and every ounce of affection our parents had to offer. I was merely the dutiful elder daughter expected to stay quiet and serve.

And now, I thought bitterly, clenching my fingers around my clutch, they’re hosting a grand celebration for my father's birthday, using the status built on the back of Taylor's company.

"We have arrived, ma'am," Henry announced, pulling up to the valet ramp of LA’s most luxurious hotel venue.

He hurried around to open my door. Stepping onto the red carpet, the booming bass of live classical jazz and the sparkling glitter of chandeliers greeted me. The ballroom courtyard was filled with high-society guests, laughter, ringing champagne flutes, and flashbulbs.

A passing waiter offered a tray, and I gracefully took a glass of sparkling champagne, holding it by the stem as I made my way through the crowd.

I was walking slowly, taking in the opulent decor, when two familiar figures stepped directly into my path, blocking my way.

Andrew and Kate.

They were holding hands, dressed impeccably. Kate wore a crimson dress designed to draw every eye, her arm looped tightly through Andrew’s bare arm as if marking her territory.

"Well, well... look who finally decided to grace us with her presence," Kate sneered, her eyes raking over my emerald gown with an immediate flash of envy before she recovered her smug smile. "Sophia, how have you been lately? Though, as you can see, Andrew has been taking wonderful care of me."

To drive her point home, Kate grabbed Andrew by the back of his neck, pulling him down into a deep, aggressive kiss right in front of me. Andrew didn't push her away; instead, he wrapped his arm around her waist, kissing her back with blatant disregard for where they were or who was watching.

Five years of marriage. Five years of my devotion, reduced to this sick display.

My fingers tightened around the stem of my glass until my knuckles turned white, but I forced every drop of pain down into the dark depths of my heart. I didn't flinch. I didn't cry. Instead, I let a smooth, sly smile spread across my lips.

When they finally broke apart, panting slightly, Kate smirked at me, expecting to see tears or rage.

Instead, I took a calm, deliberate sip of my champagne, tilting my head with an air of relaxed mockery.

"I'm doing wonderfully, Kate," I said softly, my voice dripping with smooth silk. "To be honest, when Andrew told me Taylor was my husband, I didn't quite believe him at first... but over the past few days? Taylor has been so completely wild in bed that she's practically wearing me out."

I paused, letting a cunning, satisfied smile curve my lips as I locked eyes directly with Andrew.

"She really doesn't give me a moment to breathe."

The smug smirk instantly vanished from Andrew’s face. His jaw dropped, his eyes widening in complete, utter shock as the colour drained straight from his cheeks.

"What... what the fuck did you just say?" Andrew bellowed, his voice cracking with a mix of disbelief and sudden, explosive rage. "What do you mean by that?!"