He Chose Her,I Chose Out

Chapter 4: Take Down Bianca Frost

(Juliette's POV)

I walked up to the group around Bianca, my heels clicking steady on the marble floor.

"Congratulations on the new campaign," I said.

Bianca turned, champagne glass still in hand, a smile still stuck on her face.

"Juliette. Glad you could make it."

"I actually wanted to ask you something," I said. "Your contract with Ashford Group. Section on conduct and disclosure. You remember that part?"

Her smile flickered.

"What are you talking about?"

"The clause that says you can't do anything that damages the brand's reputation," I said. "And you have to disclose any relationship that could be a conflict of interest. This season's whole campaign is built around 'independent woman.' That's the image we're selling."

I looked at her dress.

"And here you are, telling everyone some boyfriend bought you this dress. Bought you gifts. A name you never disclosed to us. That's not independence. That's exactly the conflict of interest the contract talks about."

The room around us had gone quiet.

"We have every right to pursue breach of contract," I said.

Bianca's smile froze on her face. Her shoulders started to shake.

"That's-that's not what I meant-"

I lifted my hand toward Lily, who stepped forward with a folder already in hand.

"Per the breach and damages clause," Lily said, voice clear enough for the whole crowd to hear, "Ms. Frost owes the company a significant penalty. She's also required to issue a public statement clarifying the situation, to reverse any damage done to the brand."

She read out the number.

Whispers broke out around us, one after another.

Bianca's face went from white to grey. She didn't say a word. That number was enough to wipe her out.

I walked past her.

"Better start figuring out how you're going to pay that," I said.

That's when Dominic appeared at the entrance of the ballroom.

Bianca's eyes lit up like she'd just found a rope to grab onto. She wiped her face fast, grabbed my hand, tears already running.

"Juliette, please," she said, voice breaking. "My mother's sick. Really sick. We need the money for her treatment. I can't lose this job, please, I'm begging you."

I looked down at her hand around mine. Said nothing.

Dominic walked over, frowning.

"What's going on here?"

Bianca got there first.

"It's my fault," she said, eyes red. "I upset Juliette. I wasn't thinking. It's on me."

Tears kept falling, one after another, perfectly timed.

I looked at my husband standing next to me. I didn't expect anything from him anymore.

"I'll have Muse Talent Agency give us a formal explanation," Dominic said, voice steady. Then he turned to Bianca. "You owe her an apology. Right now."

My eyes flickered.

I remembered years ago, back in school, him standing beside me like this, no hesitation, ready to take on anyone who came at me.

Bianca apologized, voice thick with tears.

Then Dominic put his hand on my shoulder.

"She apologized," he said quietly. "Let it go, Juliette."

That was it. Not for me. For her. Just so I'd stop and let her walk away clean.

I pulled his hand off my shoulder.

"Post the public statement," I told Bianca. "And don't forget the penalty."

I smiled once. Turned and walked away.

Dominic hesitated, then followed me.

Bianca stood frozen, watching his back as he walked off after me. Her assistant leaned in, whispered something in her ear. Bianca's eyes went dark.

I found a quiet corner table, away from the noise, and sat down. Dominic sat across from me. He picked up a bunch of grapes from the table and started peeling them, one by one, setting them on the small plate in front of me.

He used to do this all the time, back when we were newlyweds. I used to think that meant more than any words ever could.

My eyes stung.

"I'll deal with tonight properly," he said, quiet. He reached over, touched my hair. The look in his eyes seemed real.

I stared at the plate of peeled grapes. Not warmth. Something worse. I couldn't understand how someone who could be this gentle with me had ended up doing what he did. How he managed to play both parts so well.

Secretary Pearson came over, leaned down, said something to him about an urgent matter.

Dominic stood.

"I'll be right back," he said.

I watched him walk away. A small smile came over my face. Once he was gone, it dropped. My face went back to still, distant.

About half an hour later, I got up to find the restroom. Near the end of the hotel hallway, I heard noise.

Around the corner, a few drunk men had Bianca cornered. Their words were crude. One of them had already grabbed her wrist.

Bianca was on the floor, crying, begging them to let her go.

I stood there, frowned, pulled out my phone to call hotel security.

Before I could dial, Dominic came running from the other end of the hallway. He threw a punch, hit the closest man square in the face, knocked him down. His voice was low and sharp as he told the others to leave.

The men, half-sober from the shock, scattered.

Dominic bent down, pulled Bianca up off the floor. His hands gripped her arms.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, urgent.

Bianca sobbed, wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face against him.

"I couldn't protect you back there, in front of everyone," Dominic said, low. "That's on me."

The care in his voice wasn't hidden at all.