The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 175

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Cleaner Game

Elsewhere, the Ballroom of Hotel Meridian glowed with the warm light of chandeliers.

Round tables draped in cream white tablecloths, fresh peony flowers in the center, and rows of women in evening gowns conversing in restrained voices–quiet enough to sound graceful, loud enough to make sure others heard.

The annual charity event for the underprivileged children’s foundation.

Margaret Blackwood sat at the table of honor with perfect posture. Back straight. Hands folded neatly on the table. A smile she had practiced for decades–warm enough, distant enough.

“Margaret, darling.” Helena Prescott, the senator’s wife, touched her arm gently. “We heard about Alina. How truly sad. How is she doing now?”

Several heads turned.

Eyes full of curiosity wrapped in sympathy.

“Pregnancy is indeed difficult,” added Vivienne Hartley from across the table, her voice full of concern that was half genuine, half not. “Especially if there are… psychological complications. We’re all very worried.”

Margaret didn’t blink.

No tension in her shoulders. No change at the corners of her lips.

“Thank you for your concern,” she said in a calm tone. “Alina is receiving the best care. Everything is fine. So you don’t need to worry too much about this.”

“But the news that’s circulating-”

“News.” Margaret lifted one corner of her lips–not a smile, just a kind of acknowledgment. “You know how the media works, Helena. They need a story. And the easiest story to sell is a story about families like ours.”

A brief silence.

Then Helena nodded slowly. “You’re remarkable, Margaret. In your position, I don’t know if I could be this composed.”

“You’re even still defending her,” said Vivienne with genuinely admiring tone. “After all this drama. That’s very…

noble.”

Margaret smiled.

A smile that answered nothing.

A few minutes later, the event host went up to the podium to open the auction session. The table of honor dispersed – some toward the auction area, some to the bar, some moving to other conversation groups.

Margaret didn’t move.

She sat alone for a few seconds.

And her face changed.

Like a mask being slowly removed–and beneath it was something far colder than what was shown to the public.

Margaret’s eyes narrowed slightly.

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The Blackwood family name had been tarnished.

Thirty years she had built that name. Thirty years guarding it from stains, from scandal, from dangerous whispers at other people’s dinner tables. And now those photos were circulating on the internet—the daughter–in–law looking like a dying person, public comments linking the Blackwood name to instability and household chaos.

Margaret knew where those photos came from.

She didn’t need to investigate. Didn’t need evidence.

Some photos in that article–their angles, the moments chosen–she had seen them before. Clarissa who had shown them to her, several weeks ago, in a private conversation. Clarissa who was proud of her collection of documentation about Alina.

Clarissa was too impatient, causing her to act carelessly. She should have discussed it with her before going this

far.

Margaret picked up her phone with calm movements. Typing with thumbs that didn’t tremble in the slightest.

‘You were too careless. Did you not think about the consequences of your actions?‘

A reply came within seconds.

‘I don’t understand what you mean, Mother.‘

Margaret exhaled slowly, suppressing irritation.

‘Don’t pretend to be stupid. I know that article was your doing. I recognized some of those photos. Stop everything now. I don’t like seeing a stain on the Blackwood family name.‘

This time the reply was slower to come.

‘I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t think it through.‘

Margaret didn’t reply.

She placed her phone on the table and stared ahead for a moment–toward the room bustling with laughter and light conversation and people who knew nothing of the silent war being waged beneath the surface of the Blackwood family life.

Her phone vibrated again.

A notification from Dr. Whitmore.

‘Mrs. Blackwood, the photos you requested. There appears to be quite significant closeness between Mr. Lawson and the patient.‘

Margaret opened the message.

First photo: Adrian standing close to Alina’s bed, body slightly leaning forward.

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