Love like an abyss

Angela's P o v

She pouted, her lips trembling slightly as she looked at Brian with feigned innocence like I had said something that hurt her deeply.

Brian gave me a doting smile, but his hand moved behind his back to reassure her. I watched their interaction in silence, a cold laugh echoing in my mind. Did he not realize how obvious it was? What was he doing?

Brian gently reached for my hand, his tone laced with that all -too- familiar coaxing.

“Come on, honey. It’s just a seat. Let her have it. After all, she’s your cousin. Switch with her, okay?” His voice was laced with tenderness, his eyes filled with an affection that seemed reserved for me. Yet his words defended another woman. I gave him a faint smile, lifting my gown as I walked toward the car in the back.

“Very well.” I said coolly. At least this way, I wouldn’t have to endure the sight of him pretending anymore.

The banquet hall buzzed with conversation as people milled about in their finest attire. As Brian's fiance, I had a lot of the guests meeting me for toasts and discussions all which I engaged in with feigned smiles and happiness.

The party was a hive of activity, its vast expanse buzzing with a sense of anticipation and excitement. A great number of staff members weaved through the crowd, holding glasses of Champagne. The clink of glasses and the murmur of conversation filled the air, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter.

At the center of the room, a grand stage commanded attention, its crimson curtains held back by golden ropes. A shimmering chandelier hung overhead, casting a warm, inviting glow over the proceedings. Large round tables were scattered throughout the space, their surfaces adorned with crisp white linens, glittering silverware, and elegant centerpieces of fresh flowers.

As guests arrived, they were greeted by hosts in formal attire, their smiles warm and welcoming. The sound of a string quartet drifted through the hall, their melodies adding a touch of sophistication to the already lavish atmosphere. Yet I could not feel the warmness in this room.

A sea of people filled the room, their voices rising and falling in a melodic cacophony. Dressed in their finest evening wear, they chatted, laughed, and exchanged greetings, the sense of camaraderie and excitement palpable in the air as the hour grew closer to the start of the award ceremony.

I looked to see Laurel was already holding a glass of red wine, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she approached me.

“Oh, Angie,” she said with a mocking lilt, “how could you be so sloppy? Look at your dress. It’s all wrinkled. Couldn’t you have at least ironed it before wearing it?”

I ignored her, turning toward the dessert table to pick out a small cupcake. I hadn’t had breakfast and my stomach was growling. At this point, satisfying my hunger was far more important than engaging with her nonsense. But Laurel wasn’t done. She followed me,

“Do you think I’m just going to steal your man?” Her tone dripped with smug satisfaction. I took a bite of the cupcake, glancing at her with mild curiosity. Her lips curled into a sly smile. “Stay and watch. It’s just the beginning.” The host took the stage moments later,

"Look, I don't know why you're here... After what happened with Kian, I really don't give a damn about no man. So you can do whatever you want but leave me out of it."

She chuckled and sipped her drink. "Oh... Angie... Poor Angie. Your plight has just begun but better for you if you are sincere about what you say." She says before walking away.

I felt my chest burning and the pain increasing. The master of ceremony went up the stage and began to speak.

Through out the speech that was delivered, I had my ear else where until it was finally time to give the awards for Outstanding Performance. Laurel’s name was called.

Laurel stood gracefully on stage, her lively demeanor engaging Brian with a knowing look. The eyes of everyone in the room shifted between the three of us. I could feel pity as their gaze landed on me. On the screen, Laurel’s track record began to roll through, showcasing her accomplishments. A client named Mr. Kumar, whose asset management returns had exceeded 20%, was hailed as a miracle in the industry. The crowd gasped in admiration. “She is so amazing!”

“The last person to be this impressive was Mr. Rocha’s fiancée, the legendary Miss Duncan!” “You call that a legend? Her best was only 15%, while Laurel’s hit 20%. Now, that’s a legend.”

The people continued to clap but I remained glued to where I stood completely drenched in disbelief. She may have stolen my man, but I didn’t care. Because any man who could be stolen wasn’t worth having! But stealing the achievements I had worked so hard for? That, I couldn’t tolerate. Anger surged through me as I stormed up to the stage, grabbing the microphone from the startled host.

“Breaking industry records with a 20% return rate? I’m sure the audience would love to hear how you did it, Laurel, especially since I have never seen you in office ever before.” I said, my voice steady but icy.

Laurel froze, caught off guard by my direct challenge. Everyone else went quiet and watched on at the allegation that I was cooking.