Chapter 41
“Is she here to crash the party?”
“Damn, the balls on this chick! Still thinks she’s Mrs. Wood or something?”
“They literally just announced their engagement. Talk about social suicide.”
“But what did she actually do wrong? The guy two–timed her and decided to marry someone else. How is that on
her?”
The guests traded whispers like currency.
Most were here for the spectacle, salivating at the prospect of Charlotte Whitmore’s public humiliation. The rare voices of reason were swiftly drowned out.
Evelyn’s face went ghostly white as Charlotte approached–like she’d seen a corpse rise from the grave.
Amanda nearly choked on her champagne.
Even more rattled was Issac, who immediately moved to intercept.
“Don’t you dare,” Evelyn dug her nails into his arm, anchoring him in place. Forgetting they were in public, she shrieked at Charlotte with territorial venom, “Issac and I are getting engaged, you psycho! We’re about to become husband and wife, so back the fuck off him already…”
Issac looked like his head might explode.
But with Manhattan’s elite watching, he couldn’t lose it completely.
He could only mutter through gritted teeth for Evelyn to shut her mouth, yanking his arm away like her touch was suddenly toxic.
Evelyn’s lower lip trembled in a practiced pout.
As Issac advanced again, Jayden and his brother Wayne seized him from both sides.
“Jesus Christ, Wood,” Jayden hissed. “You’re really going to throw my sister under the bus for that nobody?”
“Get your hands off me!” Issac snarled.
The guests‘ excitement surged like a stock market rally.
The whispers crescendoed.
By now, Charlotte had reached the center of the ballroom.
She moved with the lethal grace of a lioness, pausing only to snag a glass of cabernet from a passing tray, taking a deliberate sip as if she were at a wine tasting.
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“What do you think you’re doing? Get out this instant!” Amanda bulldozed down from the stage to block her path.
Issac finally shook off the Grantham brothers and reached Charlotte, his handsome face glacial. “Cut the theatrics.
We can sort this out at home-”
“Acquiring a concubine, Issac? How very medieval of you,” Charlotte cut him off, her tone casually vicious, each word dripping with acid.
Issac’s jaw tightened to breaking point.
Evelyn and the Granthams erupted at the word “concubine.”
The implication wasn’t subtle.
She was branding Evelyn a homewrecker, declaring that even with a ring, she’d still just be the side piece! Pure, calculated provocation!
The guests were floored. Charlotte Whitmore wasn’t just unafraid–she was on the offensive. Where did this
titanium backbone come from?
Evelyn’s façade of sophistication cracked wide open. “You worthless skank! I’m Issac’s real woman–we’re getting
engaged! I’m the one he wants, not some desperate has–been!”
“SHUT. UP.” Issac’s voice cut like a blade.
Amanda rushed to Evelyn, wrapping a protective arm around her. “Hush, sweetie. Don’t sink to gutter level. She’s not worth your breath.”
Charlotte responded with the smugness of someone holding four aces. “No, please, let the child speak. It’s entertaining.”
“One more word out of you, Charlotte Whitmore, and you won’t see a single penny of your settlement!” Amanda threatened, terrified the truth about the marriage would surface.
Then she remembered last night’s forced agreement.
Her stomach dropped.
Issac’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “What settlement are you talking about?”
Amanda couldn’t hold his gaze.
“So much for true love. Just another transaction.”
“The nerve–taking hush money and still showing up to ruin everything.”
“Can’t handle being kicked off the gravy train. Making a scene for a bigger payout.”
The whispers from New York’s elite turned into a hissing chorus.
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The Granthams, already fuming at Issac’s apparent prioritization of Charlotte, now felt the humiliation burning deeper. Their princess was being dragged through the mud at her own engagement announcement.
Jayden stepped between them. “Miss Whitmore, walk out now or we’ll have security throw you out.”
“Throw ME out?” Charlotte’s electric gaze shifted to Jayden, a lethal smile spreading across her face. “On what authority? In the old days, even if your pathetic sister managed to marry in, on her wedding night she’d still be kneeling before me serving tea and calling me ‘Sister‘!”
Her voice was syrupy with mock sweetness, each word a stiletto between the ribs.
Jayden was momentarily stunned by her hypnotic confidence before snapping out of it. Who the hell did this woman think she was?
The room collectively decided she must have lost her mind.
Evelyn let out a shrill, unhinged laugh. “Kneel to YOU? For what? Who the hell do you think you are? Kneel? I’d rather piss on your grave, you delusional bitch!”
Charlotte turned to her with predatory focus. “Need proof?”
She set down her wine glass with theatrical precision and extracted a marriage certificate from her clutch, displaying it in Evelyn’s face like a royal flush. “Now tell me, trash, do I have the right to make you scrub my floors?”
Evelyn stared at the document, her brain visibly short–circuiting.
The ballroom went cemetery silent.
Issac and Charlotte were MARRIED?!
What they’d written off as an ex–girlfriend’s jealous tantrum was actually a WIFE exposing her cheating husband and his side piece!
The Granthams‘ social standing evaporated in real time.
“One cheats in marriage, the other spreads her legs for a married man, and you have the balls to announce an engagement?” Charlotte looked around the room like she was surrounded by particularly slow kindergartners. “News flash: bigamy isn’t just tacky–it’s a felony!”
The Granthams‘ faces cycled through a rainbow of mortification.
Mrs. Grantham swayed on her Louboutins.
Her daughter had been screwing a married man!
By morning, every socialite in Manhattan would know her precious girl was a homewrecker!
And worse–she had personally helped Amanda promote this illegal engagement, even sending out whispers to Page
Six!
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“Amanda Jones! How DARE you hide something this crucial?”
“You’ve destroyed my daughter’s reputation!”
The Granthams were out for blood.
Amanda frantically scrambled to explain, placate, and grovel.
Issac pressed his fingers against his pounding temples, having surrendered to the inevitable nuclear fallout.
He just wanted this nightmare to implode in private.
Charlotte snatched another glass of wine and approached Issac, her eyes drilling into the man who had walked her through prom, into marriage… and straight into this cesspool.
She raised the wine glass over his head and poured it down like christening a ship bound for hell.
The crowd collectively gasped!
Issac captured her wrist in a vise grip, his face ash–gray. “Was this theatrical bullshit really necessary?”
His grip was punishing, reopening her wounds. Pain ignited her already rage–filled eyes with murderous intensity. “Let’s. Fucking. Divorce.”
She ripped her hand free, hurling the empty glass at Evelyn’s feet. “Congratulations on your new pet!”
Issac looked genuinely shaken by her fury.
As he started to speak, he noticed something wet on his palm. Opening his hand, he found it covered in blood.
His eyes shot to her wrist, where the crimson ribbon was now soaked through. Blood was streaming down her hand, dripping onto the pristine carpet….
Horror rippled through the witnesses.
The Granthams were preparing their retreat with Evelyn when, in the dead silence with all eyes fixed on the bleeding Charlotte, Evelyn suddenly lunged forward and shoved Charlotte violently to the ground.
“You disgusting whore! Weren’t you fucked to death by all those men last night? Why don’t you just die already!”
