I folded the report and placed it back on the table. “Careful, Evan. You still have a microphone clipped to your jacket.”
His hand flew to his lapel.
Too late.
The entire ballroom had heard him.
Daniel leaned toward the sound technician near the stage and gave a small nod. The technician lowered the volume, but the damage was already done.
Evan looked around at the guests, and I could see him calculating again. Reputation. Investors. Board members. Social allies. My father’s old friends. His own mother’s church circle. All of them watching.
He adjusted his jacket with trembling hands.
“Everyone,” he said, forcing a smile that looked painful. “This is clearly a private family matter.”
I laughed softly.
“No, Evan. You made it public when you announced your engagement to another woman at our tenth anniversary gala.”
His jaw tightened.
“You planned to humiliate me in front of everyone who mattered to me,” I continued. “You thought I would cry. Collapse. Beg. Maybe sign whatever documents you placed in front of me just to escape the shame.”
His eyes flickered.
There it was.
Confirmation.
“You underestimated one thing,” I said.
He swallowed.
“My father raised me too well.”
For the first time that night, the guests did not whisper.
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