?Chapter 18:


    After yelling, Rachel felt an odd sense of relief.


    But Brian’s expression turned ice-cold.


    His fingers tightened around her chin, his voice low andced with warning.


    “Say that again, Rachel. I dare you.”


    She met his re head-on, unflinching.


    These weren’t baseless usations—she had nothing to fear.


    Her voice was clear and steady. “I said—you’re disgusting.”


    Brian let out a sharpugh, though there was no humor in it. “You’ve got some nerve.”


    His eyes darkened as he stepped back. “Don’te crawling to meter.” With a final, searing look, he spun on his heel and stormed out.


    Downstairs, Ronald stood waiting.


    When he noticed Brian’s stormy mood—and the fact that Rachel hadn’t followed—he could guess how things had gone.


    “Sir, should we head to the charity g now?”


    Brian shot him a sharp look. “Without a date? What for?” His lips curled in irritation. “Or do you n on putting on a dress and keeping mepany?”


    Ronald swallowed hard. Good grief! Why did he have to be the one dealing with this?


    Just as he was about to make the call to cancel the event, Brian waved a hand dismissively. “Call Tracy.”


    “Got it,” Ronald replied.


    ???è?? ￠?ΔT?εЯ? ?η ?a?иoν???.???


    That evening, Tracy arrived at the charity g on Brian’s arm.


    When Yvonne Jimenez spotted them, her gaze turned sharp, cold fury simmering beneath the surface.


    She snapped a picture and sent it straight to Rachel.


    “What’s this about? Brian’s parading that woman around like she belongs next to him.”


    “We had a fight.” Rachel didn’t bother hiding the truth. Yvonne was her closest friend—their bond forged through shared struggles.


    “Want me to go over there and teach her a lesson?” Yvonne asked.


    “Go ahead. Do whatever you want.”


    With Rachel’s approval, Yvonne’s hesitation vanished.


    She had arrived with her husband, Norton Burke. But though they were legally bound, they only appeared together when necessary—at formal gatherings or under the pressure of family expectations.


    Tonight was no different. Yvonne stood beside Norton at the entrance, but they quickly went their separate ways.


    Meanwhile, Brian and Norton, old acquaintances, gravitated toward each other, sses in hand, caught up in conversation. Yvonne took the chance to make her move.


    Spotting Tracy at the bar, she strode over without hesitation.


    As she passed by, Tracy’s wine ss suddenly slipped from her hand, shattering against the floor. At the same time, crimson liquid sttered across her pristine white dress. The stain stood out starkly, ruining its elegance.


    Tracy’s temper red instantly. “Are you blind? Can’t you watch where you’re going?”


    Yvonne blinked innocently and rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, my vision’s been a little offtely. The only thing I seem to see clearly is a scheming bitch. But, you know, that dress actually looks better with the red. Adds some character.” She tilted her ss slightly, as if ready to pour another ssh.


    Tracy recoiled in rm, her voice shrill. “Are you insane?”


    Yvonne grinned, unfazed. “Oh, definitely. I lose control sometimes.”


    Tracy trembled with rage, her fingers curling into fists.


    She wanted nothing more than to w that smug expression off Yvonne’s face. Her patience snapped. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you’d better apologize. Right now. Immediately. Or I swear, you’ll regret it.”


    Yvonne pulled her shoulders in, feigning distress. “Oh no, I’m just trembling in fear!”


    The mockery sent Tracy over the edge. She raised her hand, ready to p her. But Yvonne was faster. She stepped back and called out dramatically, “Norton Burke! Help! Someone’s hurting me!”


    The sudden outburst caught the attention of the two men.


    Norton and Brian turned toward them.


    Brian’s gazended on Tracy, then trailed to the dark red stains on her dress. His brows furrowed. “What happened?”


    Tracy’s entire demeanor shifted in an instant. She put on a delicate, pitiful expression and cast Yvonne an using look. The implication was obvious.


    Norton also asked, “Yvonne, you’d better exin.”


    Yvonne smiled, stepping forward and straightening his tie with delicate fingers. “Don’t be so impatient! I’ll exin. But first…” She gave the silk fabric a slight tug.


    “Your tie’s a little off. Now, answer me something.”


    “What?” Norton asked.


    “I seem to recall the organizers mentioning that this charity auction requires couples—boyfriends and girlfriends, or husbands and wives.”


    “Yes, they did. Why?”


    Realization dawned on Norton—he had walked right into her trap.


    His brows knitted. “You set me up?”


    “No!” She batted hershes, her expression nothing but pure mischief. “Your answer was just perfect.”


    Then, in a heartbeat, her gaze turned razor-sharp as she looked at Tracy. “Did you catch that? This isn’t exactly a ce for mistresses.”


    Tracy’s face darkened. “What nonsense!” She turned to Norton, her voice rising with frustration. “Norton, who is this woman?”


    Yvonne didn’t give him the chance to answer. She yanked Norton’s tie and kissed him—slow, deliberate, leaving no room for doubt. Then she pulled back and smirked. “Let me spell it out for you. He’s my husband. I’m his wife, Yvonne Jimenez. And another thing—I can’t stand hearing women call my husband’s name with such familiarity, so find another way to address him.” Her smile didn’t waver. “Unless, of course, you’d like to see what happens when you don’t.”


    Tracy hadn’t seen thating. This woman was Norton’s wife?


    Clearly, a lot had changed while she was away.


    “Norton, I had no idea you were married,” Tracy said, her voice stiff with difort.


    “That’s because you have a terrible reputation, and I didn’t want you tainting our wedding,” Yvonne replied smoothly.


    “Yvonne!” Norton’s expression darkened, his gaze turning sharp and cold.


    Unbothered, Yvonne simply smiled and turned to Brian. “I poured the wine. My hand was steady, so no, it wasn’t an ident. I did it to put her in her ce. But if that upsets you, Mr. White, you can always marry her and set Rachel free.”


    Her tone was light, but the challenge in her eyes was unmistakable.


    “Rachel is beautiful and sweet—there’s no shortage of people who adore her. She doesn’t need to waste her time on you.”


    At that moment, Tracy fully grasped the situation.


    Yvonne was here for revenge—for Rachel.


    In the end, Norton slung Yvonne over his shoulder and carried her away. Tracy turned to Brian, looking fragile and remorseful. “I’m sorry, Brian… I didn’t mean to cause you trouble.”


    “Did you bring a change of clothes?” His voice was impassive.


    “No.”


    “Then let’s go. I’ll have Ronald take you home.”


    Once Tracy was gone, Brian sat in his car and lit a cigarette, the glow briefly illuminating his chiseled features.


    “Where is she?” His voice was low, unreadable.


    Ronald hesitated.


    “Find out. Now.”


    “Got it.”


    Five minutester, Ronald returned with an update. “Ms. Marsh checked into a hotel with her luggage. Looks like she booked the room for a full month.”


    “A month?” Brian let out a cold scoff.


    He flicked the ash from his cigarette, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. “Tell every hotel in the city—she’s not to be amodated.”


    Ronald hesitated for a moment. Wasn’t that a little extreme? But seeing the look in Brian’s eyes, he swallowed his thoughts and nodded.


    By 9 p.m., Rachel was forced out of her hotel.


    She tried another and another.


    By the time the fifth hotel turned her away, the truth hit her like a p.


    It must be Brian’s doing.


    He was merciless.


    Her phone vibrated in her hand. A message from him lit up the screen. “Send me your location. I’lle pick you up.”


    .


    .


    .