Before Paula could explain, I shook her off and slapped her hard across the face.
"What the hell gives you the right to hit her!"
The guy scrambled out of his seat and shoved me back, positioning himself in front of Paula like some kind of shield.
"Who the fuck do you think you are!" he shouted. "You don't get to touch my girlfriend!"
I just looked at him—really looked—and almost laughed at the absurdity. Then I met Paula's complicated expression, grabbed a napkin from the table, and calmly wiped my wrist where she'd touched me.
"Why don't you tell him," I said, my voice flat.
I held Paula's gaze. "Tell him exactly who I am. Tell him whether I have the right to hit you."
Paula's face cycled through shock, then confusion, and finally something harder as she watched me press forward. She glanced at the guy's defiant stance, then made her choice—stepping in front of him, shielding him from me.
"Elliot, when it comes to relationships, it takes two to tango."
She pulled the guy behind her. My colleague Chloe had already moved to my side. "Need backup?" she asked quietly.
I shook my head, letting Paula continue.
"Elliot." Paula lifted her chin. "We were together five years. Married for two. Have you ever stopped to consider how many problems you brought to this marriage?"
She met my eyes without flinching.
"Yes, I built my life in this city because of you. Yes, my success exists because of the doors you opened. But that doesn't mean I have to tolerate your entire family looking down on me."
She stepped closer.
"I can apologize. I can go home with you." Her expression wavered. "But don't drag Rupert Vance into this. He's innocent in all of this." Even now, she was making excuses for him. "He's young—he can't afford this kind of scandal. His grandfather is in poor health and can't handle the stress. Whatever issues we have—"
Her gaze flicked to Chloe, who was watching her like a hawk ready to strike.
"—we can discuss at home."
I listened to Paula deliver her speech, every word calculated to protect this Rupert, and felt something between disgust and disbelief.
Five years together. Three years married.
When Paula first started her company, I'd called in every favor I had. My parents had worked their connections to the bone. They'd even mortgaged their assets to fund her entire startup.
Back then, whenever Paula talked about it, her eyes would well up.
"Elliot, I'll owe you for the rest of my life. I swear I'll make it up to you—to you and your family."
Now?
Now it had become: "I built my success because of you. But that doesn't mean I have to tolerate your family looking down on me."
I stared at this woman I'd loved for five years. I'd thought I could handle this calmly, rationally. But her words still hit like a fist to the chest, squeezing until I could barely breathe, barely stand—
"What the actual fuck!" Chloe exploded before I could respond. "So let me get this straight—you used my boy here to climb your way up, got bored, and decided to trade him in for a younger model? And now you're trying to make him the villain?"
She jabbed a finger at Paula. "You've got some goddamn nerve!"
Then she rounded on Rupert.
"And you!" She pointed at the designer chain around his neck. "If I'm not mistaken, that little accessory was bought with my friend's money!"
Her voice rose. "Take it off. Give it back!"
She lunged for it. Rupert shrieked and stumbled backward. Paula grabbed Chloe's wrist and yanked hard, sending her crashing into the table. Glasses shattered. Plates clattered to the floor.
And through it all, Paula's voice cut through the chaos—
