He Brought His Mistress, I Brought My Lawyers Chapter 07

He Brought His Mistress, I Brought My Lawyers Chapter 07

Sloane covered her mouth and let out a sob, her face a mask of panic.

“I’m so sorry, Avery! I didn’t mean it! My heel… it twisted…”

Ethan hurried over. His gaze swept over the ruined veil and the champagne-soaked floor, then landed on my pale face. His brows furrowed.

“Avery, Sloane didn’t mean to. Don’t…”

“Shut up.”

My voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through his false comfort like a blade. I turned to Sloane, still performing on the floor, and asked, each word clear, “Do you know this was the only thing my mother left me?”

Sloane’s eyes flickered. She avoided my gaze.

“I… I really didn’t know… Avery, I’m willing to pay. Any amount…”

“Pay?” I gave a cold, humorless laugh. “Can you afford it?”

“Avery!” Ethan stepped in front of Sloane, shielding her like a wall. “She already apologized. What more do you want? Whatever this veil costs, I’ll buy you a more expensive one. I could get you a piece from the Vatican if I had to!”

His words were the final straw.

“Ethan.” I slowly lifted my eyes to the man I had once loved, my gaze like a thousand-year-old glacier. “Move now, and I’ll leave you with your last shred of dignity. Otherwise…”

I paused, my voice carrying just enough to reach the curious guests around us.

“I don’t mind letting every powerful person on the East Coast see how the heir to the Ward Group indulged his dead friend’s widow while she destroyed his fiancée’s mother’s legacy.”

Ethan’s face turned livid. He gritted his teeth. “Avery, watch your mouth.”

“I am.” I didn’t look at him again. My gaze locked on the panicked face behind him.

Sloane shrank back under my stare.

“What… what do you want? Ethan is here. You wouldn’t dare…”

Before she could finish, I turned and grabbed an unopened bottle of Moët from the base of the champagne fountain. It was printed with the custom initials for our wedding: A&E.

Then I swung my arm and smashed it hard against Sloane’s shoulder.

Bang.

The heavy glass bottle met bone with a dull, brutal thud. The bottle exploded, spraying golden liquid and glass shards everywhere.

“Ah!”

Sloane let out a piercing scream and collapsed, clutching her shoulder.

I didn’t stop.

I dropped the neck of the bottle, bent down, and picked up a second one.

“The tear in this veil is three inches long.” I straightened, my voice as calm as an executioner’s. “One inch, one bottle. Fair, isn’t it?”

Ethan finally snapped out of his shock and roared, “Avery! Are you insane?”

He rushed forward to stop me, but my cold, vicious glare froze him in place.

“If you dare to stop me, the next bottle is for you.” I spoke slowly, delivering the harshest threat in the calmest tone. “Try me.”

Ethan froze, looking at me as if I were a complete stranger.

Sloane clutched her bleeding shoulder, staring in terror as I lifted the second bottle. At last, she realized I wasn’t joking.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Avery!” she cried, tears and snot streaming down her face. “I was wrong! I didn’t mean it! Please…”

The second bottle came down cleanly.

Then the third.

Each one landed precisely on her curled body, avoiding vital spots but hurting enough to stain her pure white gown with champagne and filth.

As I reached for a fourth bottle, Ethan finally broke and lunged forward, seizing my wrist.

“Enough!”

I looked up at him, the corner of my mouth lifting in a sarcastic smile.

“What? Does it hurt to watch?”

“Do you know what you’re doing?!” He gripped my wrist, trying to wrestle the bottle away, a vein bulging at his temple. “This is assault! I can have security arrest you!”

“Call them.” I shook his hand off and let the bottle roll to the floor. I took my phone from my clutch and tapped the screen.

A video began to play.

The ballroom’s CCTV footage was crystal clear. It showed Sloane moving through the crowd, adjusting her angle, locking her gaze on the champagne fountain, and then precisely “twisting her ankle” in a perfect, deliberate arc.

Ethan’s pupils contracted.

Sloane saw the video, too. All the color drained from her face.

I put my phone away and didn’t look at them again.

I bent down and picked up a torn piece of the veil from the floor. The pearl attached to it had fallen off, its sharp edge cutting my palm. A drop of blood seeped out, staining the sacred white.

It hurt.

But not one ten-thousandth as much as the tearing in my heart.

“Ethan.” I stood, my gaze passing over his shocked, speechless face before settling on Sloane, huddled on the floor like a pile of trash.

“I will settle this account with both of you. Slowly.”