Your Husband-Pampering System Is Fake, but My Billionaire Identity Is Real

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3

My voice wasn't loud, but every word came through clear.

They landed on Dylan like an invisible slap across the face.

"You bitch! You want to die!"

"You think a cripple like you gets to mock me?"

Dylan flew into a rage, fist raised, already lunging to hit me.

"Dylan!"

Maureen, silent until now, finally moved.

She grabbed his arm as he charged, shaking her head, trying to talk him down.

"Just let it go!"

Instead, Dylan wrenched his arm free, disbelief all over his face.

"Let it go?"

"Maureen, this cripple humiliates me in front of everyone, and you want me to let it go?"

"Don't tell me you're still carrying a torch for him. You feel sorry for him?"

Maureen froze, shot me a quick glance, and denied it flat out.

"I don't, so stop talking nonsense."

But maybe I imagined it.

When she saw my face stay perfectly calm, a flicker of disappointment crossed her eyes and was gone.

By now jealousy had burned away whatever sense Dylan had left. He shoved her hand off again and let out a sneer.

"Nonsense? Ever since he showed up, your eyes have practically been glued to him."

"What is it? Having regrets?"

"Don't forget, you're the one who threw yourself at me and climbed into my bed."

"You're the one who said I was the love you were destined for, and that Brendan Vance was nothing."

"Take a good look. I'm your husband now."

In that instant, every eye on Maureen changed.

Back then, no one had known the truth.

The world had always assumed I'd hurt Dylan out of jealousy.

Only now did they understand that Maureen had cheated first.

"Enough, stop talking!"

"Today is my cousin's wedding. Don't lose your mind here."

Maureen's face went from pale to red, burning with shame and fury.

She deliberately dropped her voice, coaxing him softly.

"You won't let me say it, so I'll say it anyway—"

The more Maureen humbled herself, the harder Dylan pushed.

I watched the whole farce play out and suddenly found it pointless.

Even sparing it another glance felt like a waste of time.

I stood and walked toward the door.

"Stop right there! Did I say you could leave?"

Dylan's roar came with a wine cup that cut through the air and shattered hard at my feet.

A crack.

The cup hit the floor, dark red wine and shards of glass spraying everywhere.

A sharp sting ran across the back of my hand.

I looked down at the blood welling from the cut, and my eyes went cold.

It seemed some people today were destined to come to a bad end.

The cold edge in my gaze rattled Dylan, and he took an involuntary step back.

"What are you doing?"

"You wouldn't actually try to hit me, would you?"

"Let me tell you, things aren't what they used to be. I'm practically half of Deepcloud Capital now. You lay one finger on me and I'll make sure you can't survive anywhere in Cloudport."

I let a mocking curve pull at the corner of my mouth.

"Half of Deepcloud Capital?"

Dylan nodded, chin high, jabbing his finger toward my face.

"That's right."

"So, Brendan Vance, if you don't get down on your knees and apologize today, you're not walking out that door."

Maureen sighed and tried to talk me around.

"Brendan, just apologize to Dylan, all right?"

I let out a cold laugh.

"And if I don't?"

Maureen frowned slightly.

"Brendan, it's only an apology."

"Do you really want to make an enemy of Deepcloud Capital?"

I shook my head slowly.

"You've got it wrong. I'm not making an enemy of Deepcloud Capital."

I paused, my gaze sliding past Maureen to Dylan behind her.

"I just can't stand certain people. A dog that only barks because of its master's power."