Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 76

Chapter 76 The Sabotaged Dress Code Trap

Celeste Whitmore stared at me. Her pale pink ballgown consumed the space around her on the platform. She surrounded herself with wealthy socialites, but the numbers offered her zero protection. The color drained from her face. Her hands gripped the fabric of her skirt.

Penelope Ashcroft stood near a towering ice sculpture. She owned a massive media syndicate. She leaned toward Gabriela Fuentes.

Their conversation carried over the music of the string quartet.

“Look at the cut of that gown, Penelope murmured. “Flawless structure.”

‘I heard the Whitmore staff sent her a cocktail dress code, Gabriela replied. “A petty trick.”

“A failed trick,” Penelope observed. “Celeste looks outclassed in her own home. Minerva dominates the room.”

I turned away from the dais. I dismissed the hostess. I walked toward the center of the ballroom.

Alexander Redford approached my position. The veteran venture capitalist held a crystal flute of champagne. He wore a sharp black

tuxedo.

“Miss Hayes, Alexander greeted. “You make an impression.”

“I adapt to the environment, Alexander.” I answered.

“You wear it with competence,” he noted. A genuine smile touched his lips. “Come. Javier Mendoza wants to discuss your logistics grid. He manages the largest retail holding firm on the continent.”

I followed Alexander through the crowd. Javier Mendoza stood by the glass, nursing a glass of dark liquor.

“Minerva, Javier said. He offered his hand.

I shook it. His grip was firm.

“Your profit margins intrigued my board, Javier stated. “Your press conference demonstrated a bulletproof supply chain. We want to stock Aegis in our premier retail locations.”

“Aegis demands premium shelf space,’ I countered. I kept my posture straight. I engaged the negotiation. ‘Eye-level displays. Dedicated lighting. My brand does not share space with discount cosmetics.”

“We can arrange a dedicated section,” Javier agreed. “We require a thirty percent wholesale discount.”

“Fifteen percent,” I corrected. “I operate with zero debt and infinite demand. You need my brand to attract the younger executive demographic to your stores. I do not need your floor space to hit my revenue targets.

Javier let out a rough laugh. He appreciated the pushback. “Twenty percent. Final offer.”

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Chapter 76 The Sabotaged Dress Code Trap

“Agreed, I said.

I secured a massive retail expansion in under five minutes. I conducted business in the center of Celeste Whitmore’s charity gala. I

transformed her social battleground into my personal boardroom.

I accepted a glass of iced water from a passing waiter. I turned my head to scan the room.

Tristan Johnston stood near a massive marble pillar.

He wore a tailored black tuxedo. The stark fabric highlighted the broad lines of his shoulders. He held a glass of amber liquor. He

did not mingle with the investors. He watched my every move.

His steel-gray eyes tracked my movements. I felt the weight of his gaze. It burned against my skin. He searched my face for a

fracture. He searched for a hint of panic.

He found a concrete wall.

I took a sip of my water. I held his gaze. I offered zero answers.

Tristan tightened his grip on his glass. He pushed off the marble pillar. He began to walk across the ballroom floor. He ignored the prominent politicians and the tech founders trying to catch his attention. He walked on a direct intercept course toward my

position.

Before he could cross the center of the room, Celeste intercepted him.

She stepped into his path. She reached out and wrapped both hands around his right arm.

Tristan stopped. His jaw clenched into hard lines.

He looked down at the woman gripping his sleeve. The expression on his face contained pure disdain. He did not want her touch. He

despised the public performance.

Celeste ignored his revulsion. She leaned her weight against his side. She anchored him in place. She turned her head and glared at

me, her eyes filled with desperate fury.

I turned my back on them.

Valentina Rosales could not tolerate my success. She detached from a group of socialites near the central bar. She stalked across the

marble floor. Her silver dress caught the light of the chandeliers.

I finished my conversation with a boutique owner. I stepped back to allow a waiter to pass with a tray of drinks.

Valentina quickened her pace. She stepped directly into the path of the waiter.

The young man stumbled. The silver tray tipped. A tall crystal glass of red wine tipped over the edge.

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Chapter 76 The Sabotaged Dress Code Trap

The crimson liquid splashed across the marble floor. A heavy splash hit the bottom edge of my black silk gown.

Valentina offered a loud gasp. The surrounding guests turned their heads to watch the commotion.

Oh, my apologies, Minerva, Valentina drawled. Her tone held zero regret. Her eyes gleamed with petty satisfaction. “The staff here lacks coordination. Your dress is ruined. You should excuse yourself from the ballroom.”

I looked down at the dark fabric.

The heavy silk absorbed the liquid. The black color masked the stain completely. A lighter color would have shown a glaring red mark. A pink tulle dress would have required an immediate exit. I anticipated their pathetic sabotage attempts./

“The silk repels liquid, Valentina,” I stated. My voice cut through the ambient noise of the party. “Unlike your reputation, my dress

remains intact.

A few tech founders standing nearby let out low chuckles.

Valentina flushed a deep, ugly red. Her mouth opened, but she failed to form a coherent response. She turned and fled toward the

bar, humiliated in front of her peers.

I looked at Marcus and Leo. The security contractors stood a few feet away, maintaining a perimeter.

“I need a moment of quiet,” I told Marcus. “Hold your position here. I will use the powder room.”

“Understood, Miss Hayes, Marcus replied.

I walked away from the crowded ballroom. I navigated the gilded corridors of the Whitmore estate. The music of the string quartet faded behind me, replaced by the silence of the massive mansion.

I located the women’s lounge.

I pushed the heavy wooden door open. The room was empty. It featured rose marble counters, gold-framed mirrors, and velvet chaise lounges. The air smelled of expensive floral soap.

I walked to the sink. I grabbed a thick paper towel from a silver dispenser. I turned the brass faucet and wet the edge of the paper with cold water. I bent down and dabbed the hem of my dress, clearing the sticky residue of the wine.

The silence of the room broke.

The heavy wooden door swung open. The hinges groaned.

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