I Approved My Husband’s Wedding Leave to Marry His Assistant Chapter 06

I Approved My Husband’s Wedding Leave to Marry His Assistant Chapter 06

Mr. Dawson trembled with anger. “You’re lying!”

I reached into my clutch and pulled out our official marriage certificate.

Then I opened it to the page with our photo and the official seal and held it up for everyone to see.

“Do you see it now?”

“Michael and I got legally married three years ago.”

“In the eyes of the law, I am his only wife.”

I turned to Claire and looked at her bloodless face. “So what does that make you?”

Claire swayed.

“No. No, that’s not true,” she murmured. “Michael said he had never been married. He said he had been waiting for me.”

I smiled. “And you believed him just because he said so?”

“The Claire Bloom piece you’re wearing was remade from the bracelet he claimed he lost on our wedding anniversary.”

“The apartment he rented for you at Rivergate Residences was paid for out of our joint account.”

“And those strawberry tarts he brought you every day came from the bakery downstairs from my home. They were my favorite dessert.”

With every word I said, Claire’s face turned a shade paler.

Michael finally lost control and rushed over to snatch the microphone.

“Enough! Lena, shut your mouth!”

I took one step back, and he missed.

“Michael, are you scared now?”

I looked at him.

“Today is Mr. Shaw’s big day. As his wife, how could I show up without a wedding gift?”

I raised my hand and snapped my fingers.

The ballroom lights dimmed, and the large screen lit up again.

This time, it was not photos.

It was text messages and bank transfer records.

Michael Shaw: [Babe, I sent you $5,200. Buy the bag you like.]

Michael Shaw: [Baby, here’s $10,000 for now. If you need more, just tell me.]

Each transfer was displayed clearly, with the time, amount, and account information.

The recipient was Claire Dawson.

The money had come from the joint account Michael and I shared.

That was the money we had saved for three years to buy a new home.

“Michael, you used the money I saved dollar by dollar to keep another woman. How generous of you.”

The crowd exploded.

“Oh my God. Is this real?”

“He used his wife’s money to support his mistress and throw this huge wedding? That’s disgusting.”

“Claire always acted so innocent. I can’t believe she’s that kind of woman.”

Claire stood there, shaking all over.

Then she screamed and clutched her stomach.

“My stomach. It hurts.”

Her mother panicked and wrapped her arms around her.

“Call an ambulance! My daughter is pregnant! You heartless monsters, if anything happens to my grandbaby, I swear I’ll never let this go!”

She was pregnant?

The moment those words came out, the entire room froze.

Michael’s mother, Linda Shaw, changed her attitude at once.

She stopped caring about me and rushed over to hold Claire.

“Claire, sweetheart, don’t panic. Think of the baby.”

“George, hurry. Call an ambulance!”

George Shaw finally snapped out of it and fumbled for his phone.

The same two people who had tried to drag me off the stage moments ago suddenly treated Claire like the most precious person in the room.

Michael froze for a second, and then joy appeared on his face.

He walked to Claire and asked urgently, “You’re pregnant? Since when? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Claire was in too much pain to speak, so she nodded through her tears.

Michael turned to look at me.

“Lena, now that Claire is pregnant, let’s handle this privately for the baby’s sake.”

“You should go home first. Stop making a scene here. This isn’t good for anyone.”

He made it sound as if I were the unreasonable one.

I looked at him protecting that woman and her child.

Then I laughed.

The sound was not loud, but every person on that chaotic stage heard it.

Everyone stopped and looked at me.

Michael frowned. “What are you laughing at?”

“I’m laughing at you, Michael.”

I walked toward them step by step and stopped in front of them.

“One baby, and you’re already this happy?”

“Did you forget? We had a baby once too.”

Michael’s face went white.