"I'm just trying to teach your wife how to be a proper, clean homemaker. All she knows how to do is spend your money and throw jealous fits. How's a woman like that supposed to take care of you?"
"If you think I'm wrong, then just fire me. I'll leave and never come back, so I won't bother either of you ever again!"
Neil's expression melted instantly. He cupped her face and wiped her tears, then turned to me with a deep frown.
"Kathryn, a skin allergy isn't going to kill you. Just take some extra medicine."
"Shirley's right. You need to learn some manners. Other men's wives don't act the way you do. Some husbands keep a whole string of mistresses and their wives don't say a word."
"Be good. Stop upsetting Shirley, and I promise I'll keep my word about what I said earlier."
My heart went completely cold.
When Neil's first business venture fell through, he'd been scammed out of everything. Not only was he penniless, he was half a million dollars in debt.
I couldn't bear to watch him spiral into depression, lying awake night after night.
But I didn't want him to feel like I was handing him charity either, so I deliberately hid who I really was.
I told him I'd sold the apartment my parents left me as a wedding gift, used that money to pay off his debts, gave him the startup capital, and encouraged him to try again.
Then I asked one of my grandfather's most accomplished protégés to pose as a business mentor, tutoring Neil one-on-one in corporate management and how to survive in the business world.
After that, I quietly leveraged my family's network to pull in investors and partnerships behind the scenes, helping him claw his way back and break into Capital City's upper class.
And now, before he'd even fully secured his footing, he was already plotting to bite the hand that fed him and enjoy the company of another woman.
But in this world, people who betray someone's genuine devotion never come to a good end.
Shirley gleefully upended an entire bottle of liquor over my head.
The alcohol burned my eyes like acid, forcing out involuntary tears. My hair clung to my face in wet, reeking strands.
She poured five bottles in a row, making sure every inch of me was drenched before she finally stopped.
She watched my skin swell red with the allergic reaction, watched me clench my jaw against the searing sting and the fire spreading across my body.
Shirley smiled, satisfied. She bent down and whispered in my ear.
"Kathryn, I thought that mouth of yours was so sharp. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"
"You know as well as I do that Neil only cares about me now. All I have to do is say the word, and he'll make you drink that entire basin of underwear water."
"But if you get on your knees right now and knock your forehead on the floor a few times, beg me nicely, I'll let you off with just two-thirds of it. How does that sound?"
So this was payback for last night.
But if I caved that easily, I wouldn't be Kathryn Henson.
I seized a fistful of her hair and shoved her entire head straight into the basin of dirty water and underwear.
Shirley choked instantly, arms flailing, thrashing wildly, but she couldn't lift her head no matter how hard she tried.
The bodyguard wrenched me off her. She collapsed to the side, gagging and coughing, but didn't forget to wail between heaves.
"Neil! She's jealous because you chose to kiss me that night! She did this on purpose to get back at me!"
"If you don't punish her, I'll kill myself right now!"
Neil's face turned black as iron. He backhanded me so hard I crashed to the floor.
My forehead struck the corner of the table, and a warm rush of blood ran down my face.
"Kathryn, you really don't know when to quit! You don't like me having a mistress? Fine. Then I'll make you the mistress. You can become the very thing you despise!"
"Tomorrow I'm going to the courthouse with Shirley. She's far more obedient and forgiving than you'll ever be. She's more fit to be Mrs. Sanchez!"
"You like using your hands so much? Then I'll destroy them. Someone get over here and smash her fingers, one by one. Let's see if she ever dares touch Shirley again!"
I was pinned to the floor. Two heavy boots crushed down on my arms, locking them in place.
Shirley tossed aside the towel she'd been drying her face with and flashed me a victor's smile.
George walked over with a small iron hammer, lined it up with my fingers, and raised it high.
Just as the hammer was about to come crashing down, the banquet hall doors exploded inward with a deafening boom.
Denys Mason's face emerged into view—chiseled, striking, almost otherworldly in its perfection.
Behind him stood over a hundred former mercenaries in tight formation, disciplined and lethal. Every single one of them wore the Mason family's signature crest pinned to their lapels.
In the next instant, every person in the room shot to their feet, gasping in unison.
"Mr. Mason—what brings you here?!"
