Fractured Hearts

chapter 9

A moment later~

The funeral was in full swing, a polished affair tailored for the organization's business partners and close associates. The atmosphere buzzed with polite applause and clinking glasses, the kind of gathering where handshakes sealed silent deals and every speech was a chess move.

As the final name on the program wrapped up their remarks, the MC stepped back up to the podium with a practiced smile and a gleam in his eye. "And now," he said, his voice echoing lightly through the room, "we'll hear from Wright Dominic, who will be sharing a brief insight into the organization's upcoming plans and initiatives."

A low murmur stirred across the room as eyes turned toward the stage, anticipation thickening the air like the calm before a storm.

Dominic rose from his seat, his suit catching the soft lights above as the crowd responded with polite applause. Calm and composed, he made his way to the stage with a quiet confidence. "Good day, everyone," Dominic began without pause, his voice steady and clear. "Thank you for being here tonight…"

While the audience listened, Phoebe barely registered his words. Her attention was elsewhere; locked on Rosie.

'Perfect!' She thought, a slow smile curling at the corners of her lips. With Dominic onstage and the room's attention fixed, Rosie was alone; unguarded.

Phoebe's eyes narrowed slightly as she spotted her opening. A waitress happened to pass behind her. "Excuse me," Phoebe said softly, turning with a touch of grace that masked her urgency. "Where's the restroom, please?"

"Step out of this hall and turn right. Walk a little, and you'll see a corner. Turn there, and the restroom's straight ahead."

"Got it," Phoebe nodded, springing up from her seat. "Archie, I need to use the restroom," she announced, but Archie remained stone-faced, refusing to acknowledge her.

Undeterred, she sauntered over to the usual line, her heels clicking on the floor. As she reached the third row, she veered off course, deliberately cutting across to the line closest to Rosie.

A sly grin spread across her face as she whispered to herself, "let's see who'll take the fall."

As she reached Rosie's side, she kicked the chair with her left foot, then bent down, clutching her foot. "Ouch!" She wailed.

Rosie's concern was palpable as she glanced over her shoulder. "What's wrong?" She asked, her brow furrowed. But her expression shifted to outrage as she took in Phoebe's theatrics.

"You're so consumed by hatred, you'd probably enjoy seeing me hurt." Phoebe accused, her voice rising.

Rosie hissed. "Get hurt, for all I care."

Archie's attention was piqued, his gaze darting between Phoebe and Rosie's tense faces. Though he couldn't hear their exact words over Dominic's droning voice on stage, the body language spoke volumes.

"Phoebe. Again," he muttered under his breath, his irritation growing. He swiftly closed the distance between them, his long strides eating up the space. "What's going on here?"

Rosie's gaze slid away, her expression shuttering. "Ask your wife," she snapped, her tone laced with resentment. She picked up her drink, took a sip, and then turned back to them, her eyes glinting with challenge. "She's the one who's been stirring up trouble; let her tell you about it."

Phoebe donned an innocent expression, her eyes wide with false sincerity. "It was her. She deliberately put her leg out to trip me." She fabricated, her voice trembling with pretend hurt.

Rosie's eyebrows shot up, her gaze piercing Phoebe's. "And did you fall?"

"Rosie…" Archie cautioned, his voice low and warning, his eyes locked intensely on hers.

Rosie's gaze never wavered. "Why are you calling my name? You should be warning your wife instead of looking at me like you're lost," she retorted, her tone measured.

Phoebe's face reddened. "How dare you speak to him like that!" She exploded, her voice booming across the room. Her sudden outburst brought the event to a halt.

Dominic's voice trailed off, and all eyes snaped to Phoebe and Rosie.

In contrast to Phoebe's loud outburst, Rosie's voice remained low and measured, audible only to Archie and Phoebe. "Are you normal?" She asked, her tone laced with subtle mockery, her intent clear to just her; she wanted Phoebe to continue ranting, to paint herself as the unstable one in the eyes of their audience.

"Me! How dare you speak to me like that!" Phoebe bellowed, her face purpling with rage.

Rosie's response was a low, throaty laugh, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Archie, you'd better leash your dog," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "She'll embarrass you with all that barking."

Phoebe's face contorted with fury, her teeth grinding audibly as she took a menacing step forward, her hand c****d back to strike. But Rosie was quicker, her reflexes lightning-fast.

With a swift motion, she stood up and flung her drink straight into Phoebe's face. The liquid splashed across Phoebe's features, her eyes widening in shock as her body froze, her raised hand suspended mid-air.

Archie's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in annoyance. "What are you doing, Rosie?" He growled, taking a step closer.

"Self-defense. You were here, weren't you?" Rosie's response was serene, her voice matter-of-fact. "She was about to attack me, but I beat her to it."

Rosie's calm demeanor only fueled the tension, her words hanging in the air like a challenge, while the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the next move in the confrontation.

"You–"

Archie tried to interject, but Rosie cut him off, her voice sharp as a whip. "What? Hun? You want to pin this on me for your wife's stupidity?" Her words left him momentarily speechless, his eyes locked on hers as he struggled to find a response.

Just then, Dominic descended from the stage, his footsteps deliberate as he approached them. "What's going on?" He asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

Phoebe's eyes snapped to him, her chest heaving with agitation. "It's her," she accused, her voice trembling. "I told you she doesn't deserve your protection. You think I was lying."

Dominic's expression turned stern, his voice firm. "Enough sermonizing. I asked a simple question. What's happening?" His words sliced through Phoebe's dramatics, demanding a straightforward answer.

"She saw me coming and deliberately stuck out her leg to trip me. I almost fell, and my husband stepped in to defend me. And look what she did next; she poured her drink all over my dress!" Phoebe narrated.

Her eyes welled up with tears as she gazed at her ruined dress. "She's ruined my dress!"

Just then, Hannah's voice chimed in from behind. "Are you sure you're telling the truth?" She threw a question, rising to her feet from the table next to Rosie's.

Her eyes bore into Phoebe's, her gaze accusatory. "Why are you lying? You hit your foot on her chair on purpose," she exposed, her voice firm. "Why are you blaming her? She poured the wine on you to defend herself. If she hadn't, you'd have hit her."

Phoebe's eyes widened in feigned innocence, her expression a picture of confusion. She blinked twice, attempting to feign ignorance. "Wh... what... what do you mean?" She stammered.

Hannah's tone turned commanding. "Apologize to her."

Phoebe's voice rose in indignation. "She should apologize. I did nothing wrong!"

Hannah's response was a calm threat, her finger pointing to the large projector on the stage wall. "If you insist, I'll call the record room and have them display what happened on the big screen. Let everyone see who's at fault."

Phoebe's lips trembled, her words catching in her throat. "What…"

Her reaction spoke volumes, and Archie's expression turned stern as he pieced together the truth. "Phoebe, apologize for what you did," he instructed, his voice low, yet firm.

Phoebe shook her head. "Honey, I did nothing. Don't you trust me?"

Archie's gaze turned away, his expression unreadable. "Apologize, or I'll let the Azel Organization handle it." He presented her with an ultimatum.

"Archie, since you've lost control of your wife, you have to make a choice. Do you want to wait till the end of the program while the security guard escorts your wife out now?" Dominic stepped in once more, his voice authoritative. "Or will you go with her, and they'll escort both of you out?"

Phoebe's face burned with humiliation, but she held onto the hope that Archie would stand up for her. However, Archie's response was measured. "Nelson was a great man, and it wouldn't be fitting for me to leave now,"

Phoebe's eyes locked onto Archie's, waiting with bated breath for his conclusion.

"Let the security do their work," Archie declared, his voice firm.

Phoebe's eyes widened. "Hum?!"

"Please note, Archie, if she refuses to cooperate, the security may have to drag her out. Hopefully, you won't get angry about that." Dominic stated.

Archie shrugged, his response unyielding. "I don't care."