บททั้งหมดของ Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging: บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

Two hours later, I was dressed in Troy's idea of power attire—black cigarette pants, a structured blazer in deep emerald that somehow fit perfectly, and a silver collar necklace of my own design. My hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, makeup minimal but precise."Perfect," Troy declared, circling me critically. "Professional enough for a business dinner, fabulous enough to remind them who they're dealing with.""Which is?""A designer whose talent threatens an entire dynasty." He adjusted the collar minutely. "Remember that when you're sitting across from Grandfather Russo. You're not there because you need him—you're there because he recognizes what you're worth."I wasn't sure I believed that, but his confidence was contagious. By the time the car arrived—a sleek black sedan with tinted windows—I felt armored against whatever awaited me at the mansion.The drive was shorter than I remembered, or maybe time simply compressed with anxiety. We passed through the ornate gates that

"Hold still," Troy muttered around the pins in his mouth, making final adjustments to the dress he'd insisted on creating for my first public appearance since the scandal broke. "If you fidget, I'll stab you, and blood ruins silver lamé."The dress was his masterpiece—asymmetrical silver with structural elements that echoed my jewelry designs. One shoulder bare, the other draped in a metallic sleeve that caught the light when I moved. The silhouette was deceptively simple, but the details were pure Troy: hand-stitched metal beading along the neckline that mirrored my signature glass-and-metal fusion technique."It's already perfect," I said, watching him fuss with the hem."Perfection is subjective. Revenge is specific." He stood, circling me critically. "When you walk into that gala on Giuseppe Russo's arm, every person who's whispered about you these past two weeks needs to choke on their champagne."It had been sixteen days since Grandfather's offer and my acceptance. Sixteen days

The Guild president took the stage, tapping her microphone for attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, before we move to dessert and our awards presentation, we have a special announcement." She smiled, a practiced expression that revealed nothing. "It's my honor to welcome to the stage Giuseppe Russo, founder of Russo Designs, for what I'm told is a historic moment in the company's evolution."A ripple of interest moved through the room. Unscheduled announcements at the Guild Gala were rare—the program was typically planned to the minute. I caught snippets of whispered speculation from nearby tables."—retiring perhaps?" "—heard rumors of acquisition—" "—why is she here with him instead of Daniel?"Grandfather rose with deliberate slowness, the room quieting as he made his way to the podium. The spotlights followed him, leaving the rest of the room in dramatic shadow. Even in his eighties, he commanded attention—his posture straight, his movements purposeful. He adjusted the microphone, su

I woke to the insistent buzz of my phone vibrating against the nightstand. Squinting at the screen, I saw twenty-seven missed calls, forty-two text messages, and over a hundred social media notifications. It was 7:18 AM."What the fuck," I mumbled, scrolling through the texts. Troy had sent eighteen of them, each more dramatic than the last:WAKE UPTHE VIDEO IS EVERYWHEREYOU'RE TRENDING #TeamMaya vs #TeamFionaINDUSTRY CIVIL WARCALL ME IMMEDIATELY YOU GLORIOUS VIOLENT QUEENI opened Instagram to find my feed flooded with clips of last night's confrontation. Someone had recorded Fiona's drunken accusations, Alex's defense, and my slap—the moment captured in high definition, my silver dress catching the light as my hand connected with Fiona's cheek. The most popular version had over 200,000 views already.Comments ranged from supportive to vicious:This is the energy I'm bringing to my next design review meetingRich people fighting over jewelry. Eat the rich.Russo family drama is b

I sank back into the chair, adrenaline leaving my body in a rush. Grandfather returned to his seat more slowly, his composure unchanged but his breathing slightly labored."Are you alright?" I asked him."Perfectly fine. Are you?"I nodded, though my hands were shaking. Daniel had never attempted to physically harm me in front of witnesses before. Always in private, always deniable."He'll challenge the transfer," I said."He'll try." Grandfather straightened the folder Daniel had knocked askew. "He won't succeed."Martha appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Giuseppe, security confirms Mr. Daniel has left the premises.""Thank you, Martha. Tea, please."After she left, Grandfather regarded me thoughtfully. "I apologize for my grandson's behavior.""You're not responsible for him.""In some ways, I am. I raised him after my son died. Perhaps too indulgently." He sighed. "I knew he was controlling, temperamental. I didn't know the extent of his abuse toward you."I said nothing. What was there