"Apologize to Wesley right now. If you ruin the Garnett–Peterson marriage alliance, I won't forgive you, Jean!" Callum ordered, his eyes seething in anger.
I turned slowly, locking eyes with Callum, the newly crowned head of the Garnett family.
Cold. Calculated. Completely heartless.
"Callum," I said, keeping my tone level, "is marriage a family asset now? Or is it still my life? How much longer are you planning to pimp me out for the Garnetts' gain?"
My gaze drifted deliberately to Shanice as I continued, "His first love is back. You don't really expect her to play the mistress forever, do you?"
Right then, another slap landed across my face, the sound sharp enough to hush the air.
"Jean, when did you become so sharp-tongued and spiteful?" Callum's voice cut through the tension like ice breaking. "Wesley is successful, admired. Having two women chasing him isn't rare. But you—jealous, irrational, blind to the big picture. Clearly, I didn't discipline you enough."
I held my cheek and stared straight at him.
"Callum, I'm twenty-eight. Whatever 'discipline' you think I missed? It's too late to fix now."
His face twisted, a smirk tugging at one side of his mouth. "So proud of yourself, huh? Just because you've been Wesley's wife for a few years? Looks like he's spoiled you too much."
Then he leaned in, voice low and sharp. "If you're not gonna learn the easy way, maybe it's time I drag your slut of a mother out of the grave and let her teach you what real family values look like."
I froze as my body locked up before the words left my mouth. "What are you planning?"
Callum sneered and retorted, "What else? Dig that whore out of the grave, of course. Let her personally show you how to put the family first."
The shock hit me like a blow. I knew Callum. This madman was absolutely twisted enough to do it.
"Apologize to Wesley," he ordered coldly, "and promise you'll stop with this childish jealousy. Swear you'll never make trouble for him again."
My hands curled into fists at my sides.
At that moment, I realized that I could not walk away from my marriage to Wesley.
I turned stiffly toward Wesley.
My voice came out flat, drained. "Sorry. I was petty. Narrow-minded."
A flicker of smug amusement flickered in his eyes. He waved dismissively, as if brushing off a gnat.
"Alright, alright. Just go home. Don't throw another tantrum like this."
I turned to leave, but Callum stepped in my way, blocking me like a brick wall. "You slapped Miss Fontana. You owe her an apology, too."
I stared at him, stunned. 'This was my family? This was the support I was supposed to lean on?'
Right then, I couldn't help but let a bitter laugh escape my lips. "Fine. I'll do as Callum says."
I turned to Shanice, swallowing the bile rising in my throat.
"Miss Fontana, I'm sorry. I was impulsive," I said. "You're welcome to hit me back."
Shanice's face lit up instantly with a bright, fake smile.
She reached out, took my hand, and clasped it like we were old sorority sisters.
"Oh, Jean! What are you saying? We were classmates! It was just a silly misunderstanding. How could I ever hit you?"
Then, Shanice leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper in my ear. "Pathetic bitch. Is this your little act? Dragging Callum in to play the heavy? If you're that desperate to stay married, just admit it. Let me give you a reality check. Wesley told me that as long as I want him back, he'll never touch you again. You're just a warm body he doesn't need anymore."
Her voice dropped lower, sweeter, more venomous.
"Ever wonder why he never gives you money? It's because he promised me everything. Every dollar he earns? It's mine. You're not even worth the loose change in his pockets."
My chest tightened, and heat surged through my veins. My eyes widened as I looked at Shanice, struggling to contain the rage bubbling up.
But Shanice stepped back effortlessly, slipping back into her sunny, polished self like nothing had happened.
"Jean, it's settled then. Wesley's throwing a welcome banquet for me. We've invited all of Riverton's finest. You have to come. I even picked out a little gift for you."
Across the room, I glanced toward Callum, now casually chatting with Wesley like none of this mattered.
My teeth sank into the inside of my cheek.
I forced out one word as I said, "Fine."
The second we stepped outside, Nikki exploded beside me.
"Jean, this is absolute crap! They're humiliating you. Are you seriously just gonna take that?"
I reached over and gave the back of her hand a soft pat, a faint smile pulling at my lips.
"Nikki, I spent ten years around people who treat misery like a morning cup of coffee. You really think I'm that easy to knock down?"
My eyes sharpened with a familiar fire.
"If they're dying to give me a 'gift' at that party, I'll make sure they get one in return."
...
Moonview Manor.
The driveway resembled a luxury car showroom, jam-packed with high-end imports. The estate buzzed with wealthy chatter and sparkling laughter from Riverton's elite.
Inside, a towering eighteenth-meter crystal chandelier spiraled down from the ceiling, reminiscent of palace grandeur. Gold and silver streamers shimmered in graceful folds from the rafters, resembling a regal coronation.
A large red-and-gold banner unfurled overhead in the center of the grand ballroom:
[WELCOME HOME, SHANICE FONTANA!]
