His Final Betrayal Was My First Move Chapter 09

His Final Betrayal Was My First Move Chapter 09

Looking at Daphne, the center of attention, I couldn’t bear it anymore. I stood and walked out.

I had just reached the door when Daphne followed and blocked my way.

“What, you’re not happy?” She waved the phone in her hand. A video was playing on the screen. “A romantic candlelit dinner like this will make a perfect ending to your marriage. I’m giving you the recording as a keepsake.”

I lowered my eyes and looked at the video.

In it, Griffin stood before the blooming fireworks with his arm around my shoulders. On camera, we looked intimate. But I saw it at once. Griffin’s gaze wasn’t on the camera at all. He was looking toward where Daphne stood. The undisguised tenderness in his eyes was like a needle, puncturing the last bubble of my self-deception.

I didn’t look at her. I just stared quietly at the phone screen, my voice carrying an exhaustion that couldn’t be shaken.

“I’ve already signed the divorce papers. I’m ready to give him to you. Is there any point to all this?”

“No point?” Daphne smiled like the cat that got the cream. “I thought you’d be moved. But since you don’t like it, I won’t play anymore. Anyway… there won’t be another chance.”

She turned with a giggle, about to rejoin her friends, when the overhead lighting rig gave a shrill sound of metal breaking.

In the blink of an eye, the chandelier—made of hundreds of Swarovski crystals and weighing dozens of pounds—came crashing straight down toward us.

Instinctively, I raised my arm to protect my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Griffin rush over like an arrow loosed from a bow.

My heart stopped.

But he ran right past me.

His target was Daphne.

A tremendous crash and a scream erupted at the same time. The heavy fixture slammed into my left arm and shoulder, the impact throwing me to the ground. Agony exploded from my bones and shot through my entire body.

Tears streamed down my face. An uncontrollable moan of pain escaped my throat.

My body shook. My vision blurred amid flying dust and shattered crystal. Through the chaos, I saw Daphne, protected in Griffin’s arms. Crying, she helped him up. He was also covered in blood.

“Griffin, why are you so foolish? Why… why are you always like this?” Her voice was tearful but full of the pride of being treasured. “Why is it that whenever I’m in danger, you’re always the first one there to protect me? Why do you insist on staying by my side no matter how hard I try to push you away?”

Why…

Because he loved her.

I answered for him in my heart.

My mind grew heavy. Everything before my eyes began to spin and sink. Before I lost consciousness, I felt the bone-deep chill of the Aspen ski field wrap around me once more.

…

When I woke up, I was in a VIP ward at Massachusetts General Hospital, my arm in a thick cast. The doctor said my left arm was fractured and I had a mild concussion.

The ward door opened and Daphne walked in. She had changed into a Chanel suit, her makeup perfect, looking completely unharmed. She placed an invitation in a dark blue envelope on my bedside table.

“Next Friday is the Whitaker Foundation’s annual dinner,” she said lightly. “It’s also the final day of the divorce waiting period required by Massachusetts law. Your divorce can officially take effect that day.”

She paused, appreciating my bloodless face, then smiled with satisfaction.

“I plan to announce some good news that night. Griffin loves me so much. I think he’ll be very happy with my surprise.”

She inspected my ward like a hostess, then kindly offered, “Griffin hurt his head, too. A mild concussion. He’s in the room next door. If you want to spend more time with him in your last few days as his wife, I can have them move you over.”

I closed my eyes, too tired to even look at her.

“No need.” My voice was as calm as stagnant water. “The person he wants to see right now is you. And I don’t want to see him again.”

Daphne nodded knowingly, seeming very satisfied with my reaction. She turned and left, the sound of her heels gradually fading.

During my last few days in the hospital, I unplugged the phone line and put my cell phone on airplane mode. I didn’t read a single one of Griffin’s messages or missed calls.

I checked myself out early. After leaving the hospital, I received an email from my lawyer. Attached was a scanned copy of the third-party audit authorization Griffin had signed.

Back at the house on Beacon Hill where I had lived for three years, I felt no attachment. I opened my MacBook and saved everything to an encrypted USB drive: the authorization form, photos of the eight cold place cards, screenshots of every lie Griffin had texted me about Daphne, clinic cancellation records, the video of him misusing public funds at the Sotheby’s auction… all of it.

Then I placed the USB drive in a plain envelope.

I picked up my already-packed Rimowa suitcase and was about to leave when I ran into Griffin coming back from outside. There was gauze on his forehead, and his face was still a little pale.

Seeing me with the suitcase, he looked surprised. “Amelia, where are you going?”

“Back to Maine,” I lied, my heart steady. “The doctor suggested I recover in a different environment.”

I turned and picked up the envelope from the entryway table, handing it to him. “This is for you. Consider it… a farewell letter.”

After that, I didn’t look at his reaction. I pulled my suitcase, opened the door, called an Uber, and went straight to Logan Airport.

Watching my hurried, decisive back, Griffin’s eyelid twitched. An inexplicable panic seized his heart. He instinctively wanted to call out to me, to ask what exactly was in that letter.

But as he took a step, his phone rang.

It was Daphne.

“Griffin, the dinner is about to start. Why aren’t you here yet?” Her voice was sweet and urgent. “I’ve been planning this party for you for so long. I even have a huge surprise for you. I can’t wait anymore…”

Griffin hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked toward the garage.

The envelope I had given him was tossed casually onto the passenger seat, unopened.

He drove to the hotel hosting the dinner. When he pushed open the ballroom doors, the room was a glittering sea of couture, bright lights, and Boston’s elite, drinking and socializing.

Seeing him appear, Daphne, dressed in an haute couture gown, immediately smiled and came forward.

“Griffin, you’re finally here!”

Griffin nodded, his expression gentle. “Didn’t you say you had a surprise for me?”

At that, Daphne’s face shone with the light of a victor.

“Griffin, you’re going to love this surprise.”

With that, she lifted her skirt and walked quickly onto the stage, taking the microphone from the host.

Her clear voice echoed through the entire ballroom.

“Welcome, everyone, and thank you for attending the Whitaker Foundation’s annual dinner. Today is a special day, and I have two pieces of good news to announce.”

Every eye in the room focused on her.

“The first piece of good news is a congratulations to Griffin. He is about to regain his freedom, say farewell to the past, and welcome a brand-new future.”

Whispers spread through the crowd. Griffin’s face also flashed with a nearly imperceptible astonishment.

Daphne didn’t care. She looked at Griffin affectionately, her voice rising with dramatic tension.

“And the second piece of good news is that tonight, I will officially accept Griffin’s pursuit. For all these years, I have been willfully taking his love for granted. But today, I’ve finally figured it out. I want to be with him forever!”