My mother's expression darkened. She hadn't expected Jesse to be this brazen—parading his mistress in front of his mother-in-law.
My blood ran cold. "Jesse. That's enough."
I could tolerate his disrespect toward me—I extracted tangible benefits from our arrangement. But I wouldn't let him humiliate my mother. She had treated him like her own son for a decade.
Jesse didn't care. He grinned, his eyes gleaming.
"I heard your husband had a penchant for secretaries too. Caused quite the scandal. Nearly divorced you over it." He paused. "But don't worry, Mom. I won't go that far. As long as Tessa stays obedient, she can keep the title of Mrs. Gilbert forever."
My father's infidelity was my mother's eternal wound—the shadow that had darkened my entire childhood.
Jesse knew this. He used it as a punchline.
The boy who once wept in my arms ten years ago is dead, I thought. The stranger before me shares his face, but none of his soul.
The disappointment cut colder than the betrayal.
Joanna stepped between me and my mother, blinking innocently.
"Just be obedient like a good little pug. Woof, woof."
Jesse patted the top of her head, his touch sickeningly tender. "Play nice, Joanna."
His attitude was on full display. The crowd's gaze shifted from curiosity to open contempt.
"Tessa Matthews is really clinging to the title. How stifling."
"What Mrs. Gilbert? Looks like she's about to be replaced."
"They were the golden couple back then. How things change."
Jesse's eyes locked onto the guest who had whispered "golden couple."
"A golden couple?" He scoffed. "She's just a worn-out shoe someone else broke in. Less of a 'golden girl' and more of a 'tainted woman,' wouldn't you say?"
His words hit the silence like water striking hot oil—an instant, violent reaction.
Even braced for his cruelty, the pain still pierced my chest.
"Nonsense!"
A thunderous roar cut through the room. Patrick Gilbert slammed his cane against the floor.
"Jesse Gilbert, is your brain addled with drink?"
One sentence, and he dismissed his grandson's cruelty as a drunkard's ramblings.
I didn't scream. Didn't demand justice. I simply lowered my eyes, withdrawing my gaze from the man who was supposed to be my husband.
The guests watched, whispering, until the banquet ended. That was when a ten-billion-dollar contract slid across the table.