Chapter 2
Three days later, Mr. Smith, an important partner in the Yolo project, came to New York for a business review.
Fabian arranged a welcome dinner at Celestial Club, the most exclusive business club in the
New York.
As Leshine’s Vice President, Chesca was expected to attend.
When she walked into the private dining room, she spotted Veronica sitting right beside Fabian, both laughing intimately together.
Chesca greeted everyone with perfect composure. As her gaze swept over Veronica, she
noticed how the woman’s profile resembled certain angles from the videos.
Her heart gave a twitch, but she kept her composure and took the seat next to Mr. Cavellon.
Midway through the dinner, Chesca excused herself to the restroom. Veronica followed closely behind.
In the bathroom, Veronica deliberately provoked her. “I moved back into that villa, Fabian
says I can stay as long as I want.”
Chesca responded calmly, “If I were you, Miss Arnault, I’d play my role properly–be a good
kept woman. Keep quiet and just hang onto his neck asking for money.”
Chesca let out a soft laugh.
“Miss Arnault, you might not know him well, money ranks first. He keeps business and women very separate. In a moment, he might make you drink not just a glass of wine, but poison if it serves his purpose.”
Veronica’s face turned pale. “Bullshit.”
11
She stared directly at Veronica. “You play the good girl role so well in bed.”
R
Chapter 2
Veronica’s expression changed dramatically, feigning shock at being exposed. “W–what are you talking about?”
Inwardly, she was delighted–her plan was working perfectly.
“I’ve seen all the videos you two made in my bedroom,” She turned and walked out, leaving Veronica frozen in place, lips slowly curling into a triumphant smile.
Fabian had always kept his distance from her. With no other option, she faked the footage. A little Photoshop magic, and boom–Chesca walked right into her trap.
Once Chesca stepped down, getting Fabian to fall for her would be child’s play.
Back in the dining room, Chesca deliberately asked Veronica to drink with Mr. Smith. Veronica tried to dodge it, confident in her “status” with Fabian.
But Fabian coldly intervened. “The Yolo Export project is a trillion–dollar collaboration. Assistant Arnault, you should do Mr. Smith a solid.”
Later that night, Veronica was hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. In the underground parking garage, Fabian grabbed Chesca’s wrist angrily. “Why did you deliberately make things difficult for her? Chesca, I told you she’s just a family friend’s daughter, I’m just looking after her…”
Chesca slapped him hard across the face, her entire body trembling.
“Oh, so you fuck your family friend’s daughter now? Are you flaunting your feelings for her, or do you just think I’m an idiot?”
Her voice shook as she continued, “Fabian, are we still what we used to be? Four years ago, Fabian Elkedonia didn’t have young girls around him. He wouldn’t bring women to our bedroom. He didn’t schedule sex around my fucking ovulation cycle just to have a child!”
“What bedroom? What are you talking about?” Fabian’s eyes darted nervously.
Chesca laughed bitterly. “I found your other phone. I’ve seen everything. Over a hundred
videos. You and her–in our bed…”
Her voice caught, unable to continue.
“That’s enough,” Fabian cut in coldly. “Starting tomorrow, you’re off the Yolo project. As for your position at Leshine, I’ll address that at the shareholders‘ meeting.”
“No need to bother,” she said, voice sharp with finality. “I don’t want the job. I don’t even want the title of Mrs. Elkedonia anymore. Because I can’t have chi-”
Before she could finish, Fabian’s phone rang. “Sir, Miss Arnault’s condition is critical. You need to come immediately.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Fabian ended the call, barely glancing at Chesca. “We’ll talk later.” Then he walked toward the black Rolls–Royce parked nearby, ready to leave.
Chesca pleaded, “Fabian Elkedonia–can’t you even give me one goddamn minute?”
“Four years of marriage, and I don’t even deserve for you to hear me out?”
Fabian gripped the car door handle, his voice cold. “We’ll talk after Veronica is out of danger.”
As the car disappeared into the night, Chesca stared into the empty darkness, whispering, “Fabian, I can’t have children anymore.”
Chesca let herself go. She loosened two buttons on her blouse, let her hair down, and asked her secretary Anne for a cigarette. Having never smoked before, she choked and teared up, laughing through her tears in a cloud of smoke.
Later at a bar, Zeno found a completely drunk Chesca. He didn’t say a word. Just hauled her
up and carried her to the car, where she leaned her head against the window, her gaze
unfocused.
“Take me home…” Chesca murmured.
Zeno glanced at her. “You sure? You really want to go back to Orlanda Castle?”
Chesca didn’t answer, just closed her eyes.
Some time later, half–asleep, she felt a warm hand brush hers. She grasped it instinctively, whispering, “Fabian…”
Zeno neither withdrew his hand nor responded, simply gazing silently at the night outside.
Back to Orlanda Castle, Zeno helped her inside, gently laid her on the bed, and then left.
Hours later, Fabian came home from the hospital.
He walked into their bedroom and found Chesca already asleep.
Fabian sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his wife’s haggard face with mixed emotions. As he was about to leave, something caught his eye–a man’s black suit jacket lay casually scattered at the foot of the bed…
He picked it up and immediately recognized it as Zeno’s.
A surge of inexplicable anger rose within him as he stormed out of the bedroom with the jacket in hand.
(3)
