Chapter 6 I Won't Tolerate You Anymore
1058 Words
Lynne's POV:
My cousin Willy picked me up from the shopping center and brought me home, where David was waiting for us to have lunch together.
It was a shame Lacey had to leave for a social engagement; otherwise, I'd have loved to share with her the drama she'd missed at the mall.
"Lynne," David said, slicing his steak with elegance, "there's a business gala tomorrow evening. It'll be attended by top elites and aristocrats. Willy will accompany you. It's time you started building your network so you can better manage the businesses I've entrusted to you."
"Of course, Grandpa," I replied cheerfully.
Since childhood, David had groomed me to take on the family legacy. I held an MBA degree and was more than ready to manage a portion of the Beverley empire. My time in the Sterling household, far from being wasted, had only strengthened my resolve and skills.
To Warren and his family, I might have appeared to be just a housewife, but they had no idea of the quiet strength and determination that fueled me all along.
I couldn't help but chuckle at the irony as I glanced at Willy, who smiled warmly at me. "It'll be my pleasure," he said.
*****
The next evening, Willy and I arrived at the grand gala.
The moment we stepped into the opulent hall, murmurs and gasps rippled through the crowd.
"Look, it's the Beverley family's eldest son!"
"He's even more handsome in person. But who's the woman with him?"
"Probably just another pretty gold digger trying to climb the social ladder."
I could hear the mix of admiration and gossip swirling around us, but it didn't faze me. My public appearances had been rare, and after marrying Warren, I'd all but disappeared from the Beverley spotlight. Their comments, however, didn't bother me. Willy and I moved gracefully through the crowd, nodding politely to acquaintances as we headed further inside.
That was when I felt some unfriendly gazes burning into me. Turning to locate the source, I spotted a couple staring at us.
It was actually Warren and Shirley.
Warren looked as polished as ever in his tailored suit, his golden hair impeccably combed.
He had always been dashing, and tonight was no exception.
Shirley, dressed in a bold magenta gown, clung to his arm like a decorative accessory, her brown curls cascading over her shoulders.
I could see their shock as they took me in—no longer the country girl they dismissed but a stunningly radiant woman, exuding elegance and power.
They might think they had seen it wrong, but they hadn't.
Warren's expression darkened like a storm cloud. His eyes flicked to my hand, which was resting lightly on Willy's arm.
Noticing my reaction to Warren's presence, Willy leaned down and whispered reassuringly, "Don't worry, Lynne. I'm here."
I tilted my head and smiled faintly. "No, Willy," I said, "they should be the ones worried."
With my arm still entwined with Willy's, I strode toward Warren and Shirley with a confident smile.
For three years, I had endured for the sake of love.
But now, I was free and unstoppable. What was there to fear?
As we approached, the contrast was striking. Willy and Warren stared at each other, their powerful presences evenly matched.
Shirley, however, paled in comparison.
Next to me, her flashy dress and exaggerated demeanor made her seem like a pretender desperately clinging to an identity she couldn't fully embody.
Willy and Warren greeted each other politely but coldly.
"Mr. Sterling, it's a pleasure," Willy said.
"The honor is mine, Mr. Beverley," Warren replied.
His voice was steady, though his eyes were glued to me. I knew what his gaze meant; he must be questioning my choice.
He must have assumed I'd latched onto Willy as soon as I left him, a man more powerful and prestigious than him.
Or maybe he thought I'd only been so quick to leave him because I'd met Willy?
Either way, Warren's eyes burned with anger, jealousy, and disbelief.
I knew my appearance today was stunning enough to attract every man, and Warren was no exception.
It was ridiculous. Was he blind all those years?
Shirley, sensing Warren's tension, tried to reassert control. She raised her voice, making sure others nearby would hear. "Lynne! What are you doing here? A business gala isn't the kind of place for someone like you!"
Her thinly veiled insult was an attempt to remind everyone of my supposed origins so that they might laugh at me.
Before I could respond, Willy's voice cut through, icy and unyielding.
"And who are you," he said, "to speak to Lynne that way?"
Shirley faltered, visibly shaken by Willy's commanding presence. "Mr. Beverley, surely you don't know," she stammered, "Lynne is a divorced woman."
Her implication was clear. Someone of Willy's stature would never associate with a divorcée.
"Does being divorced disqualify someone from attending a gala?" Willy replied, his smirk dripping with disdain. "If so, I suggest you and Mr. Sterling leave immediately."
Shirley's face turned crimson as she cast a desperate glance at Warren.
But he stood motionless, one hand in his pocket, his face a mask of irritation.
I took a step closer to Shirley, my voice sharp with derision. "Who are you to decide where I can or cannot be, Shirley? Mind your own business."
"I'm only stating the obvious," Shirley stammered, retreating a step. Warren still didn't intervene.
"Mr. Sterling," Willy said, his tone dripping with mockery as he glanced at Shirley. "I must say, your taste in companions leaves much to be desired."
Warren's expression grew darker, his gaze fixed on the floor.
Willy gently patted my hand, still resting on his arm. "Let's go inside, Lynne. There are people eager to meet you."
I knew he was referring to business associates, but I didn't miss the pointed implication that would irk Warren further. Why would I care? Everything that had happened so far was more than satisfying.
As we walked away, Shirley's indignant voice echoed behind us. "Warren, are you just going to stand there and let them humiliate me?"
I didn't hear Warren's response. Perhaps he led Shirley away to comfort her gently.
But moments later, I heard someone's heavy footsteps. Then, my wrist was forcefully gripped.
"Lynne," Warren growled behind me, "come with me. Now!"
- Writer
