At the luxury engagement party for my ex-boyfriend David and his socialite fiancée Chloe, five-year-old Maya refused to touch her mother-to-be.
Chloe, defeated and exposed, swept past us without another word, her emerald gown a blur as she stormed towards the main ballroom exit. Julian gave me a small, knowing nod, then melted back towards the banquet office. I stood alone in the quiet corridor, the wire transfer receipt clutched in my hand, the weight of David’s sacrifice pressing down on me.
Suddenly, a hand gripped my arm, not gently.
“Anna! In here, quickly!”
It was Marcus Albright, my catering manager. His face was still flushed, but the bluster had evaporated, replaced by a desperate, almost pleading look. He pulled me into a small, utilitarian catering kitchen, the clatter of silverware and the smell of roasting meats a stark contrast to the elegant gala outside.
He slammed the door shut, then leaned against it, his breathing ragged.
“I—I’m so sorry, Anna,” he stammered, running a hand over his slicked-back hair. His gaze darted around the empty kitchen. “That whole thing out there… Maya… I had no idea.”
I looked at him, my expression blank. My mind was still reeling from Julian’s revelations.
“Marcus, what are you talking about?” I asked.
He wrung his hands, his gaze fixed on the industrial-grade steel countertop.
“Chloe Kensington,” he whispered, as if the walls might be listening. “She called me directly a month ago. Said she saw my ad for luxury event staffing. Said she had a special request. An… unusual assignment.”
He swallowed hard, his eyes finally meeting mine, filled with a raw, undeniable shame.
“She paid me extra, Anna. Two thousand dollars. Cash, off-the-books. To make sure you were the one serving David’s head table tonight. She said she wanted you to see what you’d ‘missed out on’.”
The words hit me like a cold spray. Chloe hadn’t just accidentally hired my company. She had orchestrated my presence. She had pulled Marcus into her web, manipulating him, using him as a pawn in her cruel game of psychological warfare. The humiliation she wanted me to feel was deliberate, meticulously planned.
Marcus continued, his voice heavy with self-loathing.
“She told me you were a ‘troublemaker,’ prone to ’emotional outbursts.’ Said if anything ‘unpleasant’ happened, like an item going missing, I was to call security and have you escorted out, immediately.”
A cold dread seeped into my bones. Not just humiliation. She had set me up for a fall. A theft accusation. A public disgrace that would follow me. She had planned to not just push me out of Chicago, but to burn my bridges behind me. This wasn’t about love or status; it was about absolute control.
“She was going to frame me,” I whispered, the realization chilling me.
Marcus flinched. “I think… I think she was going to use it against David. To force his hand on something.” He looked utterly miserable. “I just wanted to keep the Kensington contract. They’re big spenders.”
My anger flared, hot and sharp, but not at Marcus. He was just a small fish caught in Chloe’s grand, destructive net.
“You were her unwitting accomplice,” I stated, the phrase Julian had used echoing in my head.
Marcus nodded, defeat etched on his face. “I was. And I let her use me. And you.” He pushed away from the door, his shoulders slumping. “You’re not going anywhere, Anna. Not on my watch. Not after this.”
Just then, Julian Montgomery reappeared in the doorway, his presence as quiet as before. He gave Marcus a quick, assessing look.
“Good,” Julian said, acknowledging Marcus’s newfound stance. “Because Chloe’s not done. She’s got one more card to play before the toast. And David has to be ready.”
He held up another document, something that looked like legal paperwork. The stakes, I realized, were about to be raised even higher.
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