Married to the Billionaire Who Betrayed Me novel Chapter 8

Chapter 8 My Husband Rejects Me Publicly

“A bold choice of attire for a funeral, Miss Hayes, Julian mocked. ‘Because that is what tonight is for you, correct? The death of your little gold-digging dream. Tell me, how much did you think you could extract from him? Did you think a few months on your back

earned you a Johnston black card?”

“Do not speak to me, I snapped.

“She has quite the temper, Charlotte Bennett chimed in from the sidelines. She raised her martini glass in a mock toast. “No wonder Tristan kept her hidden. Can you imagine bringing this to a board meeting?”

Laughter rippled through the gathered crowd.

I was surrounded. To my left, a group of tech magnates pointed and whispered. To my right, the society daughters watched with gleaming, malicious eyes. Behind me, the security guards hovered, waiting for the signal to drag me out into the street.

I raised my head and looked straight at the reporters gathered near the stage. Influencers held up their phones, recording every second of my humiliation. The live streams were already running. The gossip columns were already writing their headlines. I was trapped in a glass cage, and the entire city had front-row seats to watch me break.

“Tristan!”

My voice cut through the laughter and the music. It echoed off the vaulted ceilings. I poured every ounce of my desperation, my anger, and my shattered heart into his name.

The ballroom went dead silent.

The string quartet stumbled to a halt. The clinking of crystal glasses ceased. Five hundred pairs of eyes shifted from me to the man

standing by the stage.

Tristan froze. The glass of whiskey in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth.

I pushed past Julian. He tried to grab my arm, but I twisted away, the fabric of my dress tearing slightly at the seam. I did not care. I walked toward the center of the clearing, closing the distance between me and the man I married.

“Tristan,” I said again. My breathing turned shallow. The burning sensation in my chest threatened to consume me. Five minutes. In private. That is all I ask.

He lowered his glass. He handed it to a frozen waiter standing nearby. He turned to face me.

His face revealed nothing. The man who used to trace the lines of my palm and kiss the crown of my head was gone. The CEO of the Johnston Group looked at me with the cold, calculating detachment of a man assessing a bad investment.

He glanced at the press pit. He noted the camera lenses aimed at his face. He looked at Evelyn Johnston, who sat in her chair with a posture of absolute authority, waiting to see how her grandson would handle the garbage trespassing in her ballroom.

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Chapter 8 My Husband Rejects Me Publicly

Then, Tristan looked at me.

I have nothing to say to you, Minerva,” he stated.

His voice carried no anger. It carried no sorrow. It carried absolute, crushing indifference.

The floor vanished beneath my feet. I struggled to draw breath. The platinum ring hidden under my dress suddenly felt like a block

of lead, dragging me down into a dark, suffocating ocean.

He denied me. He denied us. He fed me to the wolves to protect his throne.

“You heard him, Celeste announced. She stepped up beside Tristan, her white gown glowing under the spotlights. She slid her hand through his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. “The conversation is over. You are trespassing at a private family even

Leave.

I stared at Tristan. I searched his gray eyes for a flicker of regret, a hint of the man I loved. I found a wall of ice.

“You promised me,” I whispered. My voice cracked, betraying the shattered state of my soul. I did not care if the reporters heard. I did not care if the high-society daughters laughed. I only cared about him. “You made a promise in the courthouse. You swore to

me.”

Tristan’s jaw clenched. A microscopic flinch betrayed his flawless composure. The mention of the courthouse was a dangerous spark near a powder keg. If the press investigated the public records, the entire Whitmore merger would collapse overnight.

He knew it. And Celeste sensed the shift in the atmosphere.

She let go of Tristan’s arm and marched forward. The gracious, pitying smile melted away, revealing the ruthless, territorial predator beneath the silk and diamonds. She closed the distance between us in three long strides.

‘Security, Celeste commanded, her voice ringing out like a gunshot.

Two large men in dark suits broke through the crowd, heading straight for me.

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