Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“Darren,” Viona said softly, stepping forward through the doorway without waiting to be invited. Her hand quickly reached out, wrapping around Darren’s arm as he still stood stiffly on the final step, pulling him closer with a movement that seemed so familiar, as though the two years of separation between them had never happened. “You said there would be important guests tonight. So I came to accompany you.”

Darren did not answer immediately. His eyes were still fixed on Lyonna’s face as she stood stiffly beside him, his chest still pounding from the incident on the stairs earlier, leaving him needing a fraction of a second to process the situation that had suddenly become even more complicated.

“You and her are already divorced, aren’t you?” Viona continued, her voice sweet yet sharp to Lyonna’s ears, her eyes briefly glancing toward the woman standing on Darren’s other side as though assessing something beneath her standards. “So it should be perfectly normal for me to accompany you tonight.”

Lyonna’s hands clenched tightly at her sides, her fingernails pressing into her palms until they nearly left marks. Divorced. The word struck her ears like a brutal blow. So Darren had told this woman everything—not only about the fact that their marriage had technically already ended on paper, but perhaps also about the hundred-day agreement that was supposed to remain a secret between the two of them.

How annoying, Lyonna thought, her jaw tightening as she suppressed the anger rapidly boiling in her chest. Yet she held herself back, forcing the corners of her lips upward into a smile far calmer than what she actually felt. Her hand quickly moved to remove Viona’s arm from Darren’s, her movement gentle yet firm, before she herself wrapped her arm around his, taking the position that had just been stolen.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” Lyonna said, her voice soft, yet every word carefully chosen, like a knife wrapped in velvet. “I’m still his legal wife. And exes are not allowed to attend. This is a family event.”

Viona’s expression changed instantly, her sweet smile disappearing and being replaced by a sharp gaze filled with restrained anger. She stepped forward once, narrowing her eyes as she looked Lyonna up and down in a clearly condescending manner.

“Heh,” Viona sneered, her voice turning cold. “Darren has already told me everything. You’re absolutely disgusting. Do you have to seek validation so badly that you force Darren to treat you as his wife for a hundred days? How pathetic.”

The room instantly fell silent. Darren felt his body tense, wanting to open his mouth and stop the words that had just left Viona’s lips, but before he could speak, Lyonna’s hand had already moved first.

Slap.

The sound of the slap echoed through the spacious hallway, loud enough to make the two servants standing in the corner flinch in shock. Viona staggered half a step backward, her hand instinctively rising to cover her reddened cheek, her eyes widening in disbelief and shock.

“You—” Viona nearly screamed, her voice rising sharply as tears immediately gathered in the corners of her eyes, though they had not yet fallen. “How dare you slap me!”

Lyonna did not retreat even an inch, her gaze remaining sharp and challenging, although inside her chest, her heart was pounding hard as she held back emotions far greater than what she showed on the surface. She turned toward Darren, her eyes glistening, waiting for something—a defense, an explanation, anything—but all she received was a long silence. Darren stood motionless, his jaw clenched, yet his mouth still refused to open.

That silence itself was enough to become an answer.

“Okay, fine!” Lyonna stepped backward, her voice trembling even though she tried hard to make it sound firm. “Darren, you broke your promise. Go ahead and welcome the important guests, and make your first love your partner tonight. If anything happens later regarding the Graham family’s reputation—I don’t care!”

Her voice nearly became a scream at the final sentence, echoing through the hallway that suddenly felt too large, too cold. Only the second day, Lyonna thought, her chest tightening as she held back something that wanted to burst out. Only the second day of one hundred days, and her heart already hurt this badly. What about the ninety-eight days that remained?

She turned around quickly, her feet unaccustomed to high heels as she hurried away from the staircase, away from Darren, away from Viona’s mocking gaze as the woman still held her own cheek. The tears she had desperately held back began gathering in the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall in front of the two of them. She hurried toward the side door leading to the backyard garden, her figure disappearing behind the dark trees before the sobs she had been holding back finally broke free.

In the front room, Viona straightened herself, lowering her hand from her still-reddened cheek, and her lips slowly curved into a faint smile—a triumphant smile she no longer bothered to hide.

“See, Darren,” she said, her voice sweet again as before, as though the slap had never happened. “A woman like that doesn’t deserve to be your wife. She’s too emotional, too—”

“Enough.”

That single word came out so cold and sharp that Viona immediately fell silent, her eyes widening in shock at the tone in Darren’s voice—a tone she had never heard him use toward her before.

Darren stood frozen on the staircase, his eyes staring straight toward the side door where Lyonna had disappeared moments earlier. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides, yet even he was not entirely sure at whom his anger was truly directed. At Viona, who had arrived uninvited and hurled cruel words? At himself, who had stood there like a statue, defending no one and saying nothing to stop everything from the beginning?

Or at himself because, for some reason, the sight of Lyonna running away while holding back her tears felt far more painful to watch than it should have been when it came to a wife who was supposedly only playing a role in a business agreement.

Suddenly, the head butler arrived in a panic to inform him that the guests from Singapore had already arrived in front of the house.

Darren closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before finally turning toward the main door, his face once again wearing the cold and calm expression he always had—as though nothing had happened, even though something inside his chest was still throbbing restlessly, refusing to calm down along with his expression.

The main door opened wide. The group of guests from Singapore stepped inside one by one, led by a middle-aged man in a dark gray suit who smiled warmly as he extended his hand. Darren stepped forward, putting on his usual professional smile and accepting the handshake calmly as though nothing had happened a few minutes earlier.

However, before Darren could utter a single word of welcome, Viona had already stepped forward beside him, standing far too close, her smile spreading widely as though she were the hostess of the evening.

The man in the gray suit frowned, his eyes shifting between Darren and Viona before finally asking curiously, “Mr. Darren, where is your wife? And who is this woman beside you?”

Before Darren could answer, a woman standing behind the man—apparently his wife—also spoke up enthusiastically.

“Yes, exactly. Where is Mrs. Graham? I saw you both in the headlines yesterday, and how romantic the two of you looked together. I really want to meet your wife in person.”