Chapter 2

2.

Ruby smiled.

Standing outside, my limbs went numb. I could barely stand.

I stumbled back to the private room next door.

The partner Julian had punched, Mr. Wyatt, was still trying to give me a hard time. He mixed whiskey and vodka in a glass and pushed it in front of me.

"Mrs. Sinclair, drink this, and we'll call it even between me and Julian."

He smirked, enjoying his little power trip.

In the past, to help Julian with these kinds of situations, I once drank until I had to be rushed to the ER with a bleeding ulcer.

But I wasn't going to be that fool again.

I took the glass, and with a flick of my wrist, I poured the entire contents onto the expensive Persian rug.

"Mr. Wyatt, your issues with Julian are for the two of you to resolve. I have somewhere else to be."

I returned to our mansion in Greenwich.

Julian's mother, Eleanor, was in the living room, listening to jazz.

She didn't even look up. "Is the seating chart for tomorrow's foundation luncheon finalized? I had the butler email you the elders' travel itineraries for next month's family gathering. Make sure you personally arrange their car service."

She paused, her tone dripping with subtle irony. "We expect a certain standard from a Sinclair daughter-in-law. I hope you can be perfect. Otherwise… it will be very difficult for me to explain things to the family."

Another sharp sting in my heart.

I stood silently in the doorway, but instead of my usual meek agreement, I turned and walked toward the stairs.

"Stop! Did you not hear me speaking to you?"

I paused at the foot of the stairs, and for the first time, I didn't turn back.

"Find someone else. I'm tired."

I could hear Eleanor's enraged voice behind me, but I no longer cared.

Memories flooded my mind. I remembered the first time I met Julian.

I was a sophomore in college, working as a waitress at a high-end gala.

I accidentally knocked over a guest's glass, spilling champagne all over a wealthy woman's dress.

She was furious. She wouldn't listen to my apologies, just grabbed me by the neck, shoved me to the floor, and kicked me twice, hard.

Pain shot through my entire body.

"You worthless little tramp! Do you have any idea this gown was hand-stitched by an Italian designer? It’s worth hundreds of thousands of dollars! More than you’ll make in your entire miserable life!"

I knelt on the floor, my hands clasped together, desperately repeating, "I'm sorry."

She slapped me so hard my face bled, the tears mixing with the blood until my vision was a blurry red.

It was Julian who stepped in.

"It's just a dress. It’s not worth tormenting a waitress over."

His voice was light, casual, dripping with the kind of superiority that comes from being born into wealth.

He pulled out his checkbook, his long, elegant fingers scribbling down a number.

I can still see it so clearly.

That was the first time I truly felt the chasm between our worlds.

I was a student at a top university, but just because I came from nothing, they could crush me like an ant.

But I refused to be an ant. I was going to be the master of my own life.

I wanted that dazzling, effortless life. And I wanted the man standing in front of me.

In that moment, desire and ambition merged, sparking an audacious plan in my mind.

I faked my past. I wove a web of lies.

All I wanted was a ticket into their world.

A chance to stand beside him. That was all.

And I succeeded.

Only to discover that it was all just a game for Julian.

He didn't love my brilliance. Instead, he cherished a high-school dropout from a bar.

All because she was "real" and didn't have to "pretend"?

What a fucking joke.

I called my lawyer and told him to draw up the divorce papers.

It was time to end this.

Julian didn't come home until nearly midnight.

He smelled faintly of cheap vanilla. As he loosened his tie, he said casually, "My mother told me you had a bit of an attitude today. Go downstairs and apologize to her."

I didn't move from the bed, my back turned to him.

He walked over and gently patted my shoulder. "What's wrong, darling? You seem upset."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

The same gentle touch, but now I felt no warmth from it at all.

I tried to keep my voice steady. "It's nothing. Just a headache."

"By the way, how did things go with Mr. Wyatt?"

"I didn't handle it."

Julian paused. "That's fine. Don't worry about it. I'll just drop the deal. I don't want you to be put in a difficult position."

I almost laughed.

I wanted to ask him, who exactly was he trying to protect from a difficult position?

But in the end, I just said one word.

"Okay."