My Husband’s Ex-Girlfriend Is Sleeping in Our Marriage Bed Chapter 08

My Husband’s Ex-Girlfriend Is Sleeping in Our Marriage Bed Chapter 08

The signing ceremony for Julian’s new project was a high-stakes affair. Media, partners, and key clients packed the hall.

I hadn’t planned on going.

But at 3:00 PM, Tess sent me a photo.

Vivian was in the front row, wearing a white designer suit and a VIP badge. Mrs. Vance sat right next to her.

“Your mother-in-law is out of her mind,” Tess’s text followed. “She’s parading her around. People are already whispering

that she’s the real Mrs. Vance.”

I stared at the screen until my scalp went numb.

This wasn’t just an insult; it was a public execution of my dignity.

Tess called a second later. “Sloane, don’t you dare sit this one out. If you don’t show up, the headlines tomorrow will have

you listed as the ‘ex’ before the papers are even signed.”

I grabbed my keys. My voice was dead calm. “Send me the address.”

Forty minutes later, my heels clicked sharply against the marble floor of the venue.

The room was blindingly bright, dominated by the corporate logos of the Vance Group and its partners. Camera flashes

strove to keep up with the action.

Julian stood on stage, looking sharp in a tailored suit, preparing for his keynote.

And there sat Vivian in the front row, poised and elegant. There was even a name card on the table in front of her.

Vivian Pierce.

No title. No affiliation.

In this world, that kind of ambiguity only meant one thing: something scandalous.

I stood at the entrance, looking at that name card, and let out a sharp, cold laugh,

Mrs. Vance was playing for keeps. She wanted to make me gag on my own life,

I didn’t rush the stage. I went backstage first,

The project manager turned ghost-white the moment he saw me. “Mrs. Vance-I mean, Sloane? What are you doing

here?”

I smiled.

Just checking to see when this company started hosting family reunions. Especially for the unlisted ones.”

Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. “This… this was the Chairman’s mother’s arrangement. We couldn’t say no.”

I nodded. “Understood.”

I handed my bag to an assistant and picked up a spare microphone from the tech table.

The crew panicked. “Sloane, what are you-

“Relax” I said, my smile perfectly pleasant. “I’m not here to burn the building down.”

On stage. Julian was wrapping up.

The emcee stepped up. “Now, we’d like to invite our VIP guests to join Mr. Vance for a group photo-”

That was my cue. I stepped out from the wings, heels echoing through the sudden silence of the hall.

The room froze.

Julian saw me, and for a split second, the professional mask shattered. “Sloane?”

I ignored him. I snatched the microphone from the stunned emcee and walked to the center of the stage.

The flashes became a strobe light.

I smiled at the crowd, my voice projecting clearly through every speaker in the room.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’ll only take two minutes of your time. I’m Sloane West, Julian Vance’s legal wife.”

The room exploded into a dull roar of whispers.

Hundreds of eyes pivoted instantly to Vivian in the front row.

The blood drained from her face.

Mrs. Vance bolted upright, clearly not expecting me to kamikaze her little debutante ball,

“Today was supposed to be about the Vance Group, I continued, my tone conversational. “I shouldn’t be stealing the

spotlight. But since there’s someone in the front row with no title and no job, I felt it was my duty as a wife to clear up

the confusion.”

I turned my head and looked directly at Vivian.

“Miss Pierce, do you want to introduce yourself, or should I do it for you?”

The silence was deafening.

People were already recording on their phones, sensing the viral moment of the year.

Mrs. Vance rushed the stage, hissing at me. “Have you lost your mind? This is a corporate event!”

“Exactly.” I smiled. “And if the Vance Group is this messy at home, maybe the partners should reconsider if the company

is just as unreliable.”

Mrs. Vance choked on her rage, her face turning purple.

Vivian was sobbing now, her voice shaking. “I admit I was wrong… but I just wanted a future for my son. I never wanted

to destroy you-

“Stop.”

I cut her off.

“Don’t play the victim. If you wanted help, there are social services, lawyers, jobs, and rentals. You chose a married

ex-boyfriend.”

Someone in the crowd let out a stifled laugh.

Vivian turned a deep, humiliated red.

I looked at her, my voice becoming steadier, colder.

“And one more thing. Stop calling yourself his ‘white moon.’ A white moon is something beautiful you look at from a

distance. You’re just a woman who dragged her luggage into someone else’s bedroom and went through their closet.

That’s not a legend. That’s just pathetic.”

Two seconds of dead silence.

Then, the room boiled over.

Vivian couldn’t take it. She covered her face and bolted for the exit.

Her heels clattered frantically. She stumbled on the stairs, nearly falling before a startled assistant caught her arm.

She shoved him away and ran out like a wounded bird, her expensive dress trailing behind her in disgrace.

In that moment, I felt a strange, hollow peace,

Not because I won. But because I finally let the poison out.

But I wasn’t finished.