Chapter Seven.

Mirabelle's POV

"Take a look at who we found! It's my unfaithful ex-wife who went around bedding her lovers when she was married to me five years ago!” A voice that I've never forgotten mocked me from behind.

Hmm, guess I was not wrong after all. They got in while I was not watching. But I believe it's time the party gets started with the help of these baboons.

The guest turned their gazes towards me, curious to know what the ruckus was about.

"I wonder how you got in here… Mirabelle Estella Davies..?” Ken said as he walked around me slowly and then stopped before me. "Were the guards dozing off when you sneaked into this party or…”

"Or she came in with a sugar daddy. That could be the only reasonable reason she's able to be dressed like this," Mitchelle butted in, taking a moment to scan my outfit from my head down to my toe, Jealousy obvious in her eyes.

"She must have slept with him and many other men after she was kicked into the streets. The same way she slept with a pimp while she was married.” Mitchelle scoffed at me, disdain dripping in her tone.

——-"Sugar Daddy? What the heck are these ignorant fools blurting out of their gutters? Mrs Mirabel is married with kids. How could she have a sugar daddy when she's married and owns a conglomerate worth billions of dollars?!” A guest whispered to his partner.

———"They shouldn't be here if they can't respect her. They should be kicked out of here!” Another guest chirped in.

My lips curled into a grin, crossing my left arm underneath my bosom, then taking a sip from my wine as I watched them make a fool of themselves.

“Tell us, how did you manage to break in here without an invitation card, Mirabelle?” Mitchelle asked, completely oblivious to the soft murmurs among the guests.

It doesn't amaze me how far Mitchelle is willing to go just to disgrace me in front of everyone. But it's quite unfortunate that they are not embarrassing me and are rather embarrassing themselves.

“Are you done talking, or do you have something more to say?” I asked Mitchelle as I raised an eyebrow at her but Ken interjected with a commanding tone.

"Show everyone your invitation card as you are told, and stop beating around the bush, bitch!”

"I don’t have an invitation card, darling. So go ahead and do your worst," I challenged him, stunning the both of them.

They might probably be wondering why I was not scared to be kicked out of the party or why I didn't look frightened, but I loved the attention already.

If it was the Mira they had known five years ago, then I would have been pleading with them; tears would have been streaming down my cheek to avoid being kicked out. But now, I can boldly dare them to take their best shot!

"Where are the bodyguards? They need to throw her out of here before the CEO arrives and gets every one of them fired for allowing a stranger into the party without an invitation card!” Mitchelle yelled out, feigning panic.

Fired? Stranger? Does she even know who the CEO is or who owns this event? She got to be kidding me right now.

"I’ll go get the guards,” Ken said and turned to leave, but suddenly froze in his tracks.

Blocking his path are my three little pumpkins standing before him with their heads up high, seriously glaring at Ken.

"You can’t throw her out!” They said in unison, pointing their little fingers at him as they came into my defense.

Okay, this only gets better.

Mitchelle and Ken burst into laughter at their defiance.

"Why, little brats? Is she your nanny? Is that why you don't want her to be kicked out?” Mitchelle mocked my kids, both of them laughing harder.

I dragged in a deep breath to stop myself from reacting, but I wouldn't lie that I got offended the moment she called my babies a brat.

They are not the brat here; she's the one, and my pumpkins are the sweetest pies.

"Speak up! Did the cat cut your tongue?" Mitchelle taunted, finding it amusing to tease my kids but my babies remained quiet, which is very unusual of them in such situations.

I saw their focus was fixed elsewhere and before I could turn to know what they were looking at, my husband pulled me from my waist out of the blue as I stood next to him with a little surprise in my eyes, looking up at him.

"Mirabelle Estella Sylvester won't be thrown out of this hall, but if there's someone who would be kicked out then it's going to be you if you do not learn how to respect her!" Noah said with a stern finality.

"She is their mom, My wife, and the CEO of the M.S. Group, so you have no choice but to give her the respect she deserves if you do not want your lives to end in shambles!" He threatened on my behalf and I felt my heartbeat racing more than usual.

A mischievous idea came into my head on how to make things more heated than they already are.

I turned to Noah, wrapping my hands around his neck, and stood on my toes to meet his hovering height before I crashed my lip against him, kissing him passionately, and I could hear the guests gasp excitedly around me.

I felt Noah's body stiffened as I kissed him because he didn't foresee my sudden action but he soon glided his arm over my waist from behind, returning the same energy as me.

I pulled away from him the moment he wanted to go harder and tapped on his cheek lightly while smiling at him.

"Our kids are here, Noah," I whispered with a wink and he gave me a smug look.

Someone grabbed my arm from behind and twirled me around. I let out a displeased hiss and slapped Ken's hand off my arm once my eyes set on him, but he refused to let go.

"What the fuck were you doing with my brother you slut!" Ken yelled, fury obvious through his orbs as he clenched his hand into a fist, veins almost bulging out of his forehead.

"Isn't it obvious?" I threw back his question, my lips curling into a smile.

"Dear Ex-husband, Why Don't You Call Me Sister-in-law?”