Abandoned Wife: Now Untouchable

Chapter 2 Apologizing to His Assistant

Anabella Clayton's POV:

I hit the floor hard. A stray piece of confetti sliced into my eye, stinging so sharply I couldn't even open my eyes.

"Mommy?" Elinor lunged to my side, her voice trembling and thick with tears. "Mommy, are you okay?"

I scrambled to sit up, feeling utterly humiliated. My forehead burned with a feverish heat, and my head began to swim. Around us, a circle of pristine children and their equally polished parents stared down at me with morbid curiosity.

"Your mom is so dirty. Did she crawl out of a sewer?" a boy standing next to Dexter muttered. In the dead silence of the room, his voice carried like a gunshot.

The shock on Dexter's face curdled instantly into white-hot rage. He whirled on the boy, screaming, "Don't you dare talk about my mom like that!"

But then he turned back to me. His cheeks were flushed crimson, his lips trembling in a pout.

"Mom, you ruined my party! You... You don't care about my feelings at all!" Dexter charged at me angrily. "I don't want you here! Get out! I don't want you at my birthday party!"

The force of his move sent me reeling back onto the floor. Elinor scrambled up, throwing herself at Dexter as they collapsed into a messy scuffle. "Mommy didn't mean it... It's pouring outside, and the car broke down! You can't be mean to her... you're a big meanie!"

"Stop it, Elinor!" Bowden's voice crashed down on us like a block of ice. "How could you hit your brother?"

Analia, draped in a vibrant red dress, swept Dexter into her arms with the practiced grace of a protective mother. She patted his back, her voice dripping with cloying sweetness. "Today was supposed to be your happiest day, sweetie. And then Elinor goes and hits you... She's being such a naughty girl."

Emboldened by the adult's support, Dexter's defiance turned into a full-blown tantrum. He shrieked, "Yeah! Elinor's a bad kid! You're the meanie! And Mommy is a bad mommy! I don't want you guys anymore! I want Analia!"

Elinor broke away and threw herself into my lap, burying her face in my chest as she sobbed.

My temples throbbed violently. I looked up at Bowden, desperate for him to reach out, to give me a hand up, or at the very least, to comfort his heartbroken daughter. After all, today was Elinor's birthday, too.

But Bowden didn't move toward us. Instead, he pulled Analia and Dexter closer. He ran a hand tenderly through his son's hair while the other rested on Analia's back. Analia stood flush against him, a triumphant smirk dancing on her lips. Dexter clung to her hand with total devotion, looking up at her like she was his world. Bathed in the warm glow of the party lights, they looked like the perfect family.

The guests began to whisper behind their hands. Even the children looked confused, glancing back and forth between their parents and the scene before them.

I sat there, holding Elinor mechanically, my mind going numb as a tidal wave of suppressed memories came crashing back.

I remembered when Bowden claimed he was too swamped with work to take Elinor to summer camp, only to take Analia and Dexter to Disney World behind my back. I remembered the school parent-teacher conference where Bowden insisted on going alone, only to show up with Analia, letting everyone believe she was the mother of his children. His excuse back then? He "needed her there to handle an urgent work matter".

But the memory that cut the deepest was from last year, when I was pregnant again. I had walked into Bowden's office and found Analia sitting on his lap. The shock and distress had been too much; I miscarried shortly after. As I was being wheeled into the operating room, I called Bowden, desperate for his voice. Analia answered. She told me, her voice laced with a cruel, mocking edge, "Sorry, he's in an emergency meeting."

In that moment of agony, I had wished the anesthesia would just take me forever.

After that, for the sake of the children, I had fought to keep the shards of this family together.

But it only got worse. My son grew distant, and my husband spent every waking hour with his secretary, appearing with her at every public and private event without a shred of concern for the scandal they were causing.

Now, looking at them, I began to wonder if there was anything left worth saving.

The cold, bone-deep disappointment in my chest suddenly ignited into a fierce, destructive power.

I bolted upright. Before anyone could react, I lunged forward.

Then, the sound of the slap echoed through the room as I struck the perfect, smiling face of Analia with every ounce of my strength.

The adults gasped in unison; the children erupted into screams.

"You've lost your mind!" Bowden roared. The veins in his neck bulged, and he raised his hand as if to strike me back.

I stared at his trembling fist, a cold, mocking laugh escaping my throat. "Go ahead. Hit me. There are security cameras in this room. If you lay a finger on me, I'll take that footage straight to divorce court as evidence."

Bowden's hand curled into a tight white ball. He pointed a shaking finger at me. "Anabella, you're sick! Do you know how many times you've threatened divorce this past year? It's your favorite weapon, huh? I've reached the limit of my patience with you!"

"Fine," I spat through gritted teeth. "This is the last time, and it's not a threat. You'll be hearing from my lawyer."

I grabbed Elinor's hand, ready to vanish from this nightmare.

"Stay right there! You hit her. Aren't you going to apologize?" Bowden barked, grabbing my arm. Behind him, Analia let out a sharp cry of pain. Dexter screamed, "Daddy, come quick! Analia's bleeding!"

Bowden dropped my arm instantly, spinning around to check Analia's face. I could see it clearly from where I stood. It was nothing more than a faint scratch from my fingernail.

A sharp pang of grief twisted in my chest.

Years ago, while Bowden and I were camping, a stray branch had scratched my face. Back then, he had looked at me with that same frantic intensity, rushing to clean the wound and apply ointment. He hadn't slept a wink that night, staying awake just to watch over me in case of an infection. The next morning, seeing his dark circles and his dead-serious expression, I had been so moved I thought my heart would burst.

But now, here I was, soaked to the bone, burning with fever, and all his devotion belonged to another woman.

Something inside me finally broke.

I drew myself up, clutched Elinor's hand, and stormed out of the suite without looking back.

As I fled, a door to the neighboring suite swung open. A tall man in a sharply tailored suit flashed past my field of vision. I was far too exhausted to care who he was. I just wanted to escape this suffocating place.

Edmund Chavez's POV:

Chroma Feast was known for its soundproofing, but the commotion next door had moved far beyond "celebration".

My friend and I were in the middle of negotiating a multi-billion-dollar cross-border merger when we were interrupted by a cacophony of shouting and screaming. Losing my patience, I pushed the door open, intending to tell the neighbors to keep it down.

The moment the door swung wide, a woman drenched and splattered with mud hurried past, pulling a little girl behind her.

I recognized those green eyes instantly.

It was her. The Apex. A literal legend of the financial world.

Only a handful of people knew her true identity or had seen her face; I was one of them. I had first met her when she was only twelve. Even then, she had a face defined by haunting beauty and immense pride.

Since that day, she had never truly left my sight. Then she got married, and then she disappeared into the world of motherhood, fading away from the high-stakes circles of finance. After she retired, I found the industry a much lonelier place without my greatest rival.

But how could the star of the financial world, The Apex, look so... broken? It wasn't just the disheveled clothes. It was the sorrow. I saw the unmistakable tracks of tears on her face.

A man came charging out after her.

When he turned and saw me, the fury on his face vanished, replaced by a look of sheer shock, followed by a sycophantic smile. He knew exactly who I was.

Ignoring the retreating figures of his wife and daughter, he adjusted his blazer and extended a hand.

"Mr. Chavez? What a coincidence! I'm Bowden Clayton. I've been looking for an opportunity to introduce myself..."

The name clicked. Clayton. He was the young CEO of Clayton Tech. But so what? Everyone wanted to know me, and he was a nobody in my book. My eyes were still tracking Anabella's departure. Behind me, my assistant, Frederick Braxton, whispered, "That's Anabella's husband."

My eyes widened. 'Anabella married this man? She's a Clayton now?'

I focused on the man in front of me. He was handsome enough, I suppose, but his eyes were shifty, untrustworthy. He had the look of a bottom-feeder, a classic opportunist. Still, the realization that he was Anabella's husband made me reach out and shake his hand mechanically.

Bowden's eyes lit up as he'd just hit the jackpot. "My company is currently developing a new tech application. If you have a moment..."

Frederick stepped in, handing over a business card and greeting Bowden with professional courtesy.

I looked toward the end of the hallway again. She was gone. But that tear-stained face was seared into my mind, refusing to fade.

I turned back to Bowden, who was now enthusiastically pitching his business to Frederick. A complex, bitter emotion rose in my chest.

I thought bitterly in my heart, 'So, The Apex, you gave up our battlefield for a man like this?'