Second chance of the Ex Wife

Barlor Wayne was the most powerful man in Celest City, a figure everyone respected or feared, depending on where they stood. Meanwhile, in the hospital, Dr. Kenny was in shambles, his hands trembling as he fumbled with his phone. He tried dialing the same number over and over, but only after the fourth attempt did he get it right.

His voice shook as he spoke, "Sir, she's losing a lot of blood, and we've run out of the necessary supplies. Please, if you can, come see her one last time."

The response was ice-cold. "She's not dead yet? Call me when she is," the voice on the other end replied, cutting the call before Dr. Kenny could say another word.

Lying on the hospital bed, Linda Autumn's heart sank into despair. Was this really how little she meant to him? Even now, when she was barely holding onto life, Barlor couldn't be bothered to see her?

The beeping from the machine grew louder, then flatlined. Linda felt the last bit of strength drain from her body, her spirit slipping away. She was only twenty-seven, and this was how it ended-in a sterile hospital room, alone, after giving everything she had for a man who didn't care.

In her final moments, she thought about how she had loved Barlor deeply, how she had thrown away her birthright as the Autumn family's only daughter for him. But that love had led her here, to a tragic and lonely death.

Her vision blurred, and she let her eyes close for the last time. If she could do it over, she wouldn't make the same mistakes. She wouldn't choose him again.

Then, unexpectedly, she heard a voice. "Madam, Mr. Wayne wants to take you to the auction tonight. What would you like to wear?"

Linda opened her eyes. It was Allie Lowe, her assistant. The scene around her was too familiar-it was Barlor's mansion, their home. This was shortly after they got married, a time when she still believed they could have a real marriage.

But that was five years ago. What was happening? Was this some kind of dream, or had she been given another chance?

Allie held up a white gown, her expression hopeful. "This one, maybe?"

Linda remembered how she used to dress in white because that's what Viole Stale, the woman Barlor truly loved, always wore. She had foolishly tried to mimic Viole, hoping to catch Barlor's eye.

But not this time. Linda glanced at the dress, then shook her head. "No. I'll wear this instead," she said, picking out a bright red gown from the closet.

Allie looked concerned. "But Mr. Wayne prefers the white..."

Linda smiled faintly, almost bitterly. "I don't care. Get rid of all the white dresses. I never liked them."

Allie hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "As you wish, Madam."

Linda stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was still young, still beautiful. But she knew how this story ended if she followed the same path. She was determined to change it.

That evening, Linda dressed in the crimson gown, the rich color accentuating her every curve. Her makeup was flawless, her hair styled into soft waves that framed her face. A beauty mark just below her eye added a touch of allure. She was striking, like a vision from a painting.

As she walked into the auction hall, she felt all eyes turn toward her, including those of Fern Lane, a man known for his sharp wit and even sharper tongue. He took in her appearance with keen interest.

"Who is that?" Fern asked, intrigued.

Vardy Foster, his friend and notorious playboy, grinned beside him. "That's Linda Autumn, Barlor Wayne' wife. But rumor has it Barlor's here with another woman. We might just see some fireworks tonight."

Fern didn't reply, his attention fixed on Linda as she moved gracefully through the crowd.

Inside the venue, Viole Stale clung nervously to Barlor's arm, her white dress a stark contrast to the vibrant colors around her. "I'm not sure I should be here," she murmured, uncertainty in her voice.

Barlor, ever composed, replied, "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending more of these in the future."

As they approached the main entrance, Barlor's secretary, Larry Lewis, stepped forward. "Mr. Wayne, isn't Madam supposed to join you tonight?"

Barlor's face hardened. "I told you to tell her not to come."

Larry glanced at Viole, who quickly interjected, "I asked Larry not to. I didn't want people talking about us. It seemed better for Linda to accompany you instead."

Barlor sighed, rubbing his temples. The last thing he wanted was Linda showing up tonight.

"Mr. Wayne," Viole whispered, her voice tinged with worry.

"It's fine," Barlor replied, though his irritation was clear. He turned to Larry. "Go outside and stop her. Make sure she's sent back home if you see her."

But before Larry could move, a ripple of shock passed through the crowd.

"It's too late," Larry said quietly, his eyes wide as he saw Linda enter the hall.

Barlor's eyes followed Larry's, narrowing as they both noticed the striking splash of red among the crowd. Linda stood out in a wine-red gown that accentuated her every movement. Whether she smiled or furrowed her brow, every gesture seemed to captivate those around her. The media cameras focused on her as if she were a movie star on a red carpet.

It took Barlor a moment to realize that the woman in red was Linda. This was not the Linda he was used to seeing-the Linda who favored soft, understated colors and simple styles. Tonight, she was a revelation.

Beside him, Viole's face paled. This was her first time seeing Linda in person, and the contrast between them was stark. Where Linda exuded sophistication and allure, Viole seemed young, almost out of place, like a schoolgirl who had wandered into the wrong event.

"She's... beautiful," Viole murmured, unable to hide the tinge of envy in her voice.

Linda had already spotted Barlor and Viole. With calm composure, she walked toward them, her smile never faltering. Viole expected Linda to be shocked or embarrassed upon seeing Barlor with another woman, but Linda's demeanor remained unruffled, as if she had anticipated this moment.

"Is that Mrs. Wayne? Then who's the girl beside Mr. Wayne?" one of the reporters whispered, adding to the murmur of curiosity that followed Linda's every step.

When Linda reached them, she slipped her hand into Barlor's and turned to Viole with a gracious smile. "You must be Viole, the student Barlor mentioned. I'm Linda. You can call me Mrs. Wayne."

Viole, feeling the weight of the title Linda had just introduced herself with, awkwardly released Barlor's arm and shook Linda's hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Wayne," she managed, though the words felt like a thorn in her throat.

"I hear you're planning to study abroad soon?" Linda asked, her tone polite but distant.

Viole shot a nervous glance at Barlor, who quickly intervened. "Viole is top of her class. She's set to study abroad this year, but she's a little nervous about it. I brought her here tonight to give her some exposure."

It was clear to Linda that Barlor hadn't yet fallen deeply for Viole. That would come later, after Viole returned from studying abroad. But even now, he was parading Viole around at events, making it obvious to everyone in Celest City that he had a particular interest in this young student.

None of it mattered to Linda anymore. She wasn't here to compete for Barlor's affection. She had a different goal tonight.

"Well then, Barlor, do take care of Ms. Stale. I'll head inside," Linda said, releasing his hand with a slight nod.

Barlor blinked in surprise. This was not the reaction he expected from Linda. By the time he recovered, she had already entered the auction hall, leaving him standing there, confused.

Since when had the fiery, defiant Linda become so composed, so detached?

Linda took a seat in a quieter corner of the hall. The room was filled with Celest's elite, all gathered for the auction. Linda recalled that there was a piece of land on offer tonight, a neglected plot that no one seemed interested in. But she remembered its future-how a small business owner had bought it for a song and later turned it into a fortune when the surrounding area was developed. That land had become prime real estate, and the once-unknown businessman had risen to power because of it.

If she was going to leave Barlor, Linda needed to start planning for a future on her own terms.

Meanwhile, Barlor was scanning the room, trying to locate Linda. Viole, sitting beside him, noticed his distraction. "Mr. Wayne... Are you sure you want me to bid tonight?" she asked, trying to bring his focus back to her.

"Yes," Barlor replied, his tone distant as his mind lingered on Linda. "I trust your judgment."

Viole blushed with pride. She had worked hard for this moment, studying finance in anticipation of playing a bigger role in Barlor's life.

From her seat on the second floor, Linda watched Barlor and Viole exchange quiet words, their heads close together. She knew that Viole had talent-that was one of the reasons Barlor eventually fell for her. In her previous life, Viole had impressed Barlor by securing a valuable piece of land at an auction just like this one. But Linda also knew that the land was already valuable because of the Wayne' other developments in the area. Viole had simply pushed the price up with Barlor's money, making it seem like a brilliant move.

The auction began, and Viole, bolstered by Barlor's confidence in her, started bidding aggressively. She won three prime properties in quick succession, each time glancing at Barlor for approval, which he gave readily.

"The New Moon Project, starting bid at one billion dollars," the auctioneer announced.

Without hesitation, Linda's voice cut through the room. "Two billion."

Gasps rippled through the audience. Barlor's brow furrowed as he turned to look at Linda. What was she playing at?

Viole leaned in close, whispering, "That land isn't worth much. Linda is going to lose a fortune on that bid."

Barlor pulled out his phone and quickly typed a message to Linda. "What are you doing?"

Linda glanced at the message on her phone, but she didn't respond.

"Two billion going once... Twice..." The auctioneer's voice echoed through the hall.

Fern Lane, sitting a few rows behind Barlor, raised his paddle. "Three billion."

Vardy Foster, sitting beside Fern, nearly choked on his drink. "Fern, have you lost your mind?"

Linda's eyes flicked up to see who was challenging her bid. When she saw Fern, she frowned. Why was he interested in this piece of land? She vaguely recalled that Fern had connections to some shady industries, but since when had he started investing in real estate?

"Four billion," Linda said calmly, raising the stakes.

Barlor's frown deepened. He quickly typed another message. "Linda, stop this right now."

Linda didn't even glance at her phone this time. She turned it off and focused back on the auction.

"Five billion," Fern countered, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Linda's temper flared. Fine, if he wanted to play this game, she'd play.

"Ten billion," she declared, her voice unwavering.

The room erupted in whispers. "She's lost it. No land is worth that much!"

Even Barlor, usually composed, stood up in shock. What on earth was Linda thinking?

Fern looked across at Linda, his smirk widening. He raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. "I'm out."

"Ten billion going once... Twice... Sold!" the auctioneer announced, his gavel coming down with finality.

Linda let out a breath, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. The land was hers, but she had spent far more than necessary thanks to Fern's meddling.

Vardy nudged Fern, laughing. "You're lucky she didn't jump across the room and throttle you. I know I would."

Fern just shrugged, unbothered by the ordeal.

Meanwhile, Viole tugged on Barlor's sleeve. "Mr. Wayne, Linda's going to bankrupt you at this rate."

Barlor's expression was cold. "She made the bid. She'll deal with the consequences herself.

"Linda, if real estate confuses you, then you shouldn't be here causing problems," Barlor said, dismissing her with a cold tone.

Viole quickly added, "Exactly, Linda. Your interference has cost Mr. Wayne ten billion dollars!"

Linda let out a small laugh. "Ms. Stale, I think you're mistaken. This land is mine to purchase, not Barlor's. Why would it be his concern?"

"But that's ten billion dollars..." Viole stammered, trying to grasp the situation.

"Ten billion? That's nothing more than a bit of pocket change for people like us. Isn't that right, Ms. Autumn?" A familiar voice echoed from the back. Vardy walked up with a casual stride, Fern beside him.

Linda caught sight of Fern and responded calmly, "Indeed. I bought it for amusement."

Viole's complexion turned pale, realizing how out of her depth she was. While ten billion meant little to Barlor, it seemed to mean even less to Linda.

Embarrassed, Viole's face flushed red. She realized she had made a fool of herself in front of these powerful people.

Suddenly, Fern asked, "I heard Mr. Wayne got married recently. Is this lady beside him Mrs. Wayne?"

Viole's face grew redder, and she shook her head nervously. "N-No..."

"She's mine, Linda," Barlor declared, pulling Linda close to him. Linda tried to free herself from his grip, but Barlor held on tighter.

He'd noticed Fern's lingering gaze on Linda. Men could always tell when another man was interested.

"So, Ms. Autumn is Mrs. Wayne. My mistake. I just assumed, seeing Mr. Wayne sharing a laugh with this lady earlier, that she was his wife," Vardy remarked, tapping his forehead in mock realization. "So this young lady must be his secretary, no wonder she was bidding on his behalf."

Linda couldn't help but laugh at Vardy's words, though she had grown indifferent to Viole and Barlor, the situation still amused her.

Viole's face drained of color. She looked as though she might faint.

Seeing this, Barlor ordered, "Larry, take Viole home."

"Yes, Mr. Wayne."

Vardy grinned, taking Fern by the arm. "Well, we won't keep you. Goodbye."

As soon as Vardy and Fern left, Linda finally yanked her hand free from Barlor's grasp. "Stop holding onto me!"

Barlor hadn't expected Linda to react this way. In the past, she had always been eager to be close to him, following him around like a shadow. But tonight, she seemed like a different person entirely.

"If this is some new way to get my attention, Linda, it's unnecessary," Barlor said, his tone cold.

Linda was left momentarily speechless. She wanted to argue, but the words didn't come. Given how she used to feel about Barlor, she could see why he'd think she might pull a stunt like this for attention. But that wasn't her anymore!

"Think what you want," she said, brushing him off.

"Hold on."

"What now?"

"What's your connection to Fern?"

"There's nothing between us. I barely know him," Linda replied.

Barlor's expression darkened. "Linda, whatever your relationship is, remember, you're Mrs. Wayne. You should mind your status and keep your distance from other men."

Linda couldn't help but laugh. "Barlor, before you lecture me, maybe you should take your own advice. Did you respect our marriage when you brought Viole here today?"

"I told Larry to inform you."

"And what was the message? That I shouldn't come?"

Barlor fell silent, realizing Linda had a point.

Linda continued, "Even Fern, who barely knows us, assumed Viole was Mrs. Wayne. So what do you think others are thinking? If you truly care for Viole, let's just end this marriage."

"Are you out of your mind?" Barlor's frown deepened. He didn't like Linda, but divorce wasn't something he was considering. Their marriage was a matter of convenience, and untangling it wouldn't be easy.

Linda looked at him, seeing the seriousness in his eyes. She knew the reason he wasn't considering divorce was because of her family's influence. In a few years, when she was no longer of any use, he would discard her without a second thought. Thinking of her grim future, she decided she'd rather end things now.

"I'm serious, Barlor. Let's get a divorce."

The following day, news of Linda's extravagant land purchase spread like wildfire. As the Autumn family's only heir, Linda controlled vast wealth, but even ten billion dollars was no small amount. However, her family's business operations meant there wasn't much liquid capital available.

Linda lay in bed, rubbing her temples. Should she approach Barlor?

No.

After she'd brought up divorce, Barlor had left without a word. She couldn't understand him. She was willing to hand over her family's wealth, yet he still refused to end their marriage. But who else could she turn to?

Suddenly, Linda sat up with an idea. "Fern!"

In high society, connections mattered. Linda used hers to track down Fern. She knew his power base was abroad, but he'd been in Celest City for the past two years. Others might not know, but she was aware that Fern would soon dominate Celest's business world and would inevitably clash with Barlor.

In the Foster Group's conference room, Fern played with a lighter, waiting.

Linda walked in and got straight to the point. "I need to borrow eight billion dollars."

Vardy, sitting nearby, nearly choked on his tea. He had seen people being direct before, but never quite like this!

"Ms. Autumn, you certainly don't waste time, do you?" he said, amused.

Linda blinked innocently. "Last time, you mentioned ten billion was nothing to you."

"We said that to spare your feelings. I've never seen someone repay kindness with such a bold request!" Vardy shook his head in disbelief. Beautiful women, he thought, were all a little crazy.

Fern continued to toy with his lighter, unfazed. "And why should I lend you eight billion?"

"I only needed two billion to secure the New Moon Estates. But thanks to your interference, Mr. Lane, the price has jumped to ten billion."

"That's not a good enough reason."

Linda paused, considering her next move. Then she spoke, "Mr. Lane, your businesses are mainly abroad. But you've been here in Celest City for the last two years. I'm guessing you're planning to shift your operations here, laundering money through legitimate channels. Am I right?"

Vardy, in the middle of sipping his tea, froze. He glanced at Fern, shocked. The Autumn family's heiress, of all people, had figured this out? He had never heard of a

"Linda, you can't just throw accusations around," Vardy snapped, his voice laced with frustration.

"Yeah, we're all legitimate business people here," he added, trying to keep his tone respectful.

Linda raised an eyebrow, her expression calm as she replied, "I can't speak for the rest of you, but I have a feeling Barlor might find this conversation interesting."

Vardy narrowed his eyes. "You're playing dirty, Linda."

She kept her gaze steady on Fern as she continued, "Let me cut to the chase. I need to borrow eight billion dollars. I'll pay it back, with interest, in three years."

Vardy's eyes widened in disbelief. "Eight billion? Do you have any idea how much interest that'll accrue? And what if you can't pay it back? You're married to Mr. Wayne-how are we supposed to handle that?"

"I know what I'm asking for," Linda said, her voice firm. "And I'm willing to sign over the Autumn' shares and properties as collateral. If I can't repay the loan, I'll work for you, no questions asked."

She hesitated briefly before adding, "Besides, my marriage to Barlor probably won't last three more years. Even if it does, he won't stand by me."

Fern, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. "I'll lend you the money."

Vardy's jaw dropped. "Are you out of your mind? That's eight billion dollars we're talking about!"

Fern ignored his outburst and addressed Linda, "I'll have the funds transferred to you. We can finalize the contract later."

Linda stood up, nodding. "Thank you, Mr. Lane. I'll be waiting for your message."

She turned on her heel and left the office, a small smirk on her lips.

As soon as she was gone, Vardy rounded on Fern. "She's Barlor's wife, Fern! Why on earth would you lend her that kind of money?"

Fern's smirk mirrored Linda's as he replied, "Because she's interesting."

Vardy groaned, "And I'm the one who has to foot the bill for your whims?"

Fern placed a bank card against Vardy's chest. "Consider it a wedding gift for the woman I have my eye on."

Vardy sputtered, "Wedding gift? She's married to Barlor!"

But Fern had already walked out, leaving Vardy to grumble in disbelief, "They're both out of their minds."

Back at the Wayne residence, Linda walked into the living room, surprised to see Barlor sitting there. She barely glanced at him before heading toward the stairs.

"Linda," Barlor called out, his voice cold.

She paused, turning back to face him. "What do you want?"

Barlor's tone was impatient. "The auction house is asking for payment."

"I know."

He sighed, as if trying to be reasonable. "If you don't have enough, you could have just asked me."

Linda shook her head. "I've already taken care of it."

"Where did you get the money from?" Barlor asked, suspicion evident in his voice. "Ten billion dollars isn't something you just pull out of thin air."

"That's none of your concern."

Barlor's frustration grew. "Linda, I'm your husband."

A bitter smile played on Linda's lips. "Since when did that matter to you? You're only worried that my actions might harm the Wayne family."

Barlor said nothing, confirming her suspicions.

"Don't worry," Linda continued. "I know our marriage is just a business arrangement. We succeed together or fail together. And for the record, you don't need to come home so often."

Barlor felt a pang of guilt, realizing he had taken her for granted. Before he could respond, Linda's phone buzzed. She glanced at it and saw a notification for an incoming transfer-eight billion dollars, right on time.

A satisfied smile spread across her face.

Barlor noticed her expression and felt a twinge of something unfamiliar. Regret, perhaps? He suddenly remembered how Linda used to look at him with that same smile, but back then, he had never cared.

"We're attending a banquet tonight," Barlor said abruptly. "You'll accompany me."

Linda stopped in her tracks, surprised. "Me? Why not take Viole?"

Barlor's voice was firm. "You're Mrs. Wayne. It's your place to be there."

Linda didn't buy his reasoning, but she saw an opportunity. "Fine. I'll go get ready."

As she walked upstairs, Barlor sighed in relief, grateful she hadn't completely distanced herself yet.

Meanwhile, in her dorm room, Viole was trying on a dress Larry had delivered. Her roommates admired it, commenting on how lucky she was to have such a generous boyfriend.

"Mr. Wayne will be accompanied by his wife tonight, Ms. Stale. You don't need to attend," Larry informed Viole over the phone.

"Oh, that's wonderful," Viole forced a smile, trying to mask her disappointment. "I wasn't that interested in going anyway."

Larry responded with a simple "Good," before hanging up, leaving Viole staring at her phone, biting her lip in frustration.

Behind her, her roommates exchanged knowing glances. One of them asked, "Viole, did your boyfriend just cancel on you?"

Another chimed in, "Isn't tonight a major international banquet? I thought you said your boyfriend organized it to introduce you to some key foreign investors."

Viole forced another smile and said, "He has an important client to attend to. It's best I don't cause him any unnecessary trouble."

As she looked down at the elegant dress in her hands, a wave of sadness washed over her. Barlor had always seemed indifferent to Linda-so why was he suddenly taking her to such an important event?

Her fingers clenched around the fabric of her dress, her determination hardening. She had been eagerly awaiting this night for weeks; she wasn't about to let it slip through her fingers.

That evening, Barlor sent Larry to deliver a stunning black gown to Linda. When she descended the stairs, wearing it with grace and confidence, Barlor, waiting in the foyer, couldn't help but stare. Despite having seen her in other dresses before, this one made him pause, struck by her beauty.

"I'm ready," Linda said as she reached the bottom step, her eyes meeting his.

Barlor quickly regained his composure. "I'll tell Larry to bring the car around."

Ignoring him, Linda stepped outside, finding Larry already waiting. He was momentarily taken aback by how radiant she looked in the gown. "Madam, you look stunning-much more so than Ms. Stale ever did."

Barlor shot Larry a sharp look at the mention of Viole's name, and Larry quickly realized his mistake, falling silent.

Linda, unbothered, simply nodded. "Thank you."

Once Linda was seated in the car, Barlor leaned in toward Larry, his voice low and warning. "You're not getting paid this month."

Larry felt a pang of regret but wisely kept his mouth shut, knowing he had crossed a line.

Outside the grand clubhouse, Barlor helped Linda out of the car. Their arrival together immediately drew attention. Murmurs spread through the crowd as they made their way inside.

"Is that Mrs. Wayne?"

"I've never seen them attend an event together before. They make a striking couple."

Barlor took Linda's hand naturally, and though she initially intended to pull away, the prying eyes around them made her hesitate. Reluctantly, she let him lead her.

As they entered, Linda scanned the room, recognizing many influential faces from her past life. The event was a gathering of elite entrepreneurs, philanthropists, and real estate moguls. It was exactly the kind of crowd Barlor had always thrived in. Linda had spent years learning about finance to impress him, but it had all been in vain.

Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering silenced the room. A gardener had accidentally knocked over a vase of roses. The clubhouse manager rushed over, berating the old man. "You fool! Do you know what you've done? Get out of here!"

"Wait," Linda intervened, stepping forward. She picked up one of the roses from the ground, noticing the carefully removed thorns and the rare variety. "These roses were specially brought by Mr. Lane Senior, weren't they? It would be a waste to leave them as mere decorations. Why don't we hand them out to the ladies here, so they can appreciate the gesture?"

The crowd's murmurs grew in intensity, a low hum of discontent that rippled through the room, punctuated by occasional nods of agreement. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, the eyes of the assembled guests flickering between each other and the manager, who was visibly reluctant to give in to their demands. His jaw tightened, and his posture stiffened, betraying his displeasure as he begrudgingly signaled for the gardener to distribute the flowers. The gardener, a wiry man with sun-weathered skin, hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for the baskets of flowers. The crowd watched intently, the tension in the room palpable as the flowers began to change hands, each guest accepting their bloom with a mix of satisfaction and silent judgment.

Barlor leaned in close to Linda, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered with a teasing smile, "I didn't expect you to be so charming." His words were laced with genuine surprise, mingled with admiration. He had seen Linda navigate countless social situations, but there was something about the way she handled this one that caught him off guard. The ease with which she commanded the room, the subtle way she influenced the crowd, it was all more impressive than he had anticipated.

Linda offered a light shrug, her expression calm and composed as she replied, "I'm just trying to keep Mr. Lane Senior happy." Her voice was soft, almost nonchalant, but there was a glimmer of something more in her eyes-perhaps a hint of amusement or the satisfaction of having succeeded in her subtle manipulation. She knew the power dynamics at play and had deftly maneuvered through them, not for her own gain but to maintain the delicate balance that kept everything running smoothly. She allowed herself a brief moment of satisfaction before her gaze returned to the flowers being handed out, her thoughts already moving on to the next step.

Meanwhile, outside the grand and ornately decorated clubhouse, Viole stepped out of the taxi, the night air cool against her skin as she carefully adjusted the hem of her sleek black gown. The dress clung to her figure, elegant yet understated, and as she smoothed the fabric, she became acutely aware of the curious stares from passersby. Their eyes lingered on her, some with admiration, others with speculation, but she paid them no mind. Her focus was solely on the entrance ahead, the large double doors that stood as the barrier between her and the event inside. With a deep breath, she straightened her posture, lifted her chin, and walked forward with a determined stride, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement.

As she approached the entrance, the security guard stationed at the door, a burly man with a no-nonsense demeanor, eyed her suspiciously. His gaze flickered from Viole's elegantly attired figure to the taxi that was now pulling away from the curb. The skepticism in his eyes was clear as he stepped forward to block her path. "Miss, do you have an invitation?" he asked, his tone polite but firm, laced with an underlying hint of doubt.

Viole hesitated, her mind racing. In all the times she had accompanied Barlor to events like this, she had never needed an invitation. She had always been welcomed without question, her presence assumed and accepted. But tonight was different, and the guard's unwavering stare made her acutely aware of that difference. "I'm here to see Mr. Wayne-Barlor Wayne," she explained, her voice steady despite the unease that was beginning to creep in. "I'm his partner."

The guard's expression remained impassive, but the skepticism in his eyes only deepened. His brows furrowed as he glanced back at the door, then returned his gaze to Viole, clearly unimpressed by her explanation. "Mr. Wayne and his wife are already inside," he stated, the emphasis on the word 'wife' not lost on her. "And you are?"

Feeling the weight of the onlookers' gazes pressing down on her, Viole's face flushed with embarrassment, a wave of heat rising from her neck to her cheeks. She opened her mouth to respond, to try and explain further, but the words seemed to stick in her throat.

Just as the tension reached a breaking point, Larry, one of the event organizers, appeared at the door, his sharp eyes taking in the situation instantly. Recognizing Viole, he quickly intervened, his tone smooth and reassuring as he addressed the guard. "Sorry for the confusion," he said with a slight nod.

"She's an employee of our company." His words were spoken with authority, leaving no room for further questioning, and with a gesture, he ushered for Viole to come inside.

The guard nodded and stepped aside, allowing Viole to enter. Once inside, Larry turned to her, his tone serious. "Ms. Stale, why are you here?"

"I just wanted to broaden my horizons," Viole explained quickly. "Mr. Wayne always says I'm too timid. I'll be going abroad soon, and I wanted to gain some experience before I leave. Please, Larry, help me get in."

Larry hesitated, but Viole's sincerity won him over. "Alright," he relented.

Viole smiled, relieved. "Thank you. I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly tonight, especially with Mrs. Wayne being here. She spent ten billion dollars on that piece of land recently-she could use some help navigating these circles."

Larry nodded, leading her inside. Viole's heart raced as she spotted Barlor deep in conversation with a group of foreign investors. Gathering her courage, she lifted the hem of her dress and started toward him, but her path was suddenly blocked by an elderly man carrying a large vase. They collided, the vase tipping and spilling water all over Viole's gown.

Outraged, Viole looked down at the wet fabric, her anger flaring. "What is wrong with you? Watch where you're going!" she snapped at the gardener, her voice sharp and filled with frustration.