Chapter 6
489words
Every guest stood paralyzed, eyes ping-ponging between the three of us like they were watching a tennis match played with grenades.
The smug satisfaction on Charles's face shattered, replaced by naked shock.
Something dark and possessive flashed behind his eyes.
He could discard me, humiliate me, drag my name through mud.
But the moment someone else—especially Eric, whom he'd always dismissed as inferior—declared interest in his castoff, something primal and territorial ignited in him.
"Eric!" Charles snarled, advancing with clenched fists. "Has living abroad rotted your brain?"
"You want my leftovers? This disease-ridden trash I'm throwing away? Are you really that desperate you'll eat from any gutter?"
Watching Charles's twisted face, I felt nothing but revulsion.
I turned to Eric, meeting his steady gaze. "Eric, I accept your offer. Gladly."
"Sophie Wright!" Charles spat my name like poison, a vein throbbing visibly at his temple. "Are you really this much of a whore? The ink on our divorce papers isn't even dry and you're already spreading your legs for someone else?"
I smiled coldly, flicking my gaze to Vivian. "That's rich coming from you. When exactly did you and Vivian start? Before or after our wedding?"
Charles's mouth snapped shut, caught in his own trap.
Eric remained unruffled, casually pulling out his phone. "Not a problem. I can have the Civil Affairs Bureau process everything tonight. I do have that kind of pull."
Panic flashed across Vivian's face as she watched Charles's possessive display.
She clutched his arm desperately. "Charles! You've been begging for this divorce for months! This is perfect! You—"
"Shut up!" Charles shook her off like an annoying insect. He couldn't explain the rage boiling through his veins.
The mere sight of me accepting another man's offer made him want to tear the room apart.
He turned back to Eric, voice dripping with venom. "You're welcome to my scraps, Eric—a cheap whore who's fucked half of Riverdale, a walking petri dish of diseases—"
"I am infected." My voice cut through his tirade like a blade.
My words shook but never wavered.
I swept my gaze across the stunned crowd before locking eyes with Charles. "But Charles Kosters is the source. He infected me deliberately."
"So if I'm trash, what does that make him?"
The room erupted into scandalized whispers.
"Christ, could that be true?"
"If it's true, that's beyond cruel—it's criminal."
"What kind of monster would do something like that?"
Old Mr. Kosters lurched to his feet, face ashen, finger trembling as he pointed at his grandson. "Charles! Is this true? How could you commit such a monstrous act?"
Charles's face contorted with panic. "Grandpa, she's lying! This is just revenge because I want out of this sham marriage!"
"Slander or truth? Let's find out." Eric's voice remained eerily calm as he tapped his phone, connecting it to the massive display screen dominating the wall.
