Try to make me cry

Chapter 11: The Political Minefield

The office air went from celebratory to toxic in the space of that single, shouted syllable: "You! You are Miss Grayson?"

The Governor, Laim London, and his son, Robin London, stared between me and the distraught woman, who I now knew was Ivy London.

Robin London looked at his wife, confused. “Oh, you know her, honey?”

I closed my eyes, preparing to launch into my pre-planned defense of corporate discipline, but Ivy spoke first, her mind working furiously.

“Oh, no... No, not much,” Ivy stammered, her gaze locking onto my handbag. “We only passed each other at a… ahm, shopping, yes. When I was shopping, she bought the bag I was looking forward to buying. They only have two or five in the world.” She pointed weakly at my designer bag.

I was genuinely shocked. She had instinctively chosen a lie that involved luxury competition rather than s****l scandal.

“Oh, is that so? Hope you didn't get on each other's bad side, seeing you girls love rare expensive things,” Robin said, seemingly relieved the issue was petty.

“Oh, no, honey,” she said, forcing a smile. But the smile didn't last because of the pain on her cheek. “Ouch,” she hissed softly.

Oh, I see. She realized that if she sold me out, I would instantly expose her for trying to seduce my husband—the Governor’s son’s wife sleeping around. Was that why Eddie didn't push her away or kick her out yesterday? He was uncomfortable because he recognized her as a powerful man's wife, a political landmine.

I smiled internally, a cold surge of triumph.

“Oh, what happened to your face?” I said, turning up the concerned wife persona, giving her the perfect social out.

Robin instantly bristled. “My wife got hurt by a lady who bumped her. If I get a hold of her, she will regret it.”

“Oh, that's very bad,” I said, knowing perfectly well that the "lady" was me.

“But did your wife tell you the full story?” I pressed gently, my eyes on Ivy.

Her eyes snapped to mine. She understood the silent threat.

“Honey, it was an accident. I just forgot about it, and by the way, I don't think I can remember her face anymore,” she said in a sad, final tone, confirming the lie.

“What? I can help you with—” I began, pushing the boundary slightly.

“No, it's fine,” she said, seriously this time. She wanted me silent now, too.

“Your wife is really kind,” I said to Robin. “If it was me, I wouldn't be sure to just let it go.” Yes, the way she knows I have nothing to lose. She was the one who was trying to seduce my husband, but I forced her hand, and I took action. Her husband will kill her if he finds out his wife sleeps around. Win is a win.

“Well, if she says so,” Robin said, slightly mollified. “But I'll make sure nothing like this ever happens to her again.”

What a foolish man. So clueless, yet he's a far better husband than my husband Eddie when it came to love and care.

Governor Laim London stepped in, eager to end the awkward interlude. “We will take our leave now.”

“Let me walk you out,” I offered politely.

“No need for that,” the Governor dismissed, already walking toward the door.

Robin escorted his wife out. As she passed me, Ivy gave me a scary, lingering stare, a silent promise of future retaliation, before disappearing into the hallway.

The Political Web

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The immediate danger was averted, but the corporate threat was still looming.

I had been right: Eddie was forced to handle Ivy with kid gloves because she was the Governor's daughter-in-law. His discomfort wasn't moral; it was political.

I grabbed the papers my father had sent. The fact that Eddie had already leveraged my company's forced "partnership" into a grand three-way merger with the Governor and the Ho family meant my divorce was now economically impossible. They had publicly cemented the marriage as an unassailable corporate structure.

I had to move faster than all of them. The beach party was my next and only option.

I immediately called my Head of Security, Victor.

“Victor, drop everything. Change of plans. I need a full security, surveillance, and personnel assessment of the entire Stone Estate beach property. I need to know every possible point of entry and exit, every blind spot, and the guest list for the so-called 'birthday celebration.' I need to know who the real players are.”

“And Madam,” I added, looking down at the documents from my father, "I need you to find me a way to legally and irrevocably block my father from making any more unilateral decisions regarding my company. The kind of block that he cannot bypass, even if he were to petition the highest court."

This wasn't just about my company anymore; it was about survival. And I was going to the beach party with a purpose: to destroy the puppet master.