The Ex-Wife He Can’t Have novel Chapter 75

"So you knew about the rumors between Sylvia and Preston back then?" Jillian asked gently.

They were both campus celebrities—handsome and beautiful. With just a little interaction, it was easy for people to jump to conclusions.

Plus, during the time Sylvia was competing for campus queen, she played up her wealthy heiress persona flawlessly. She was essentially the reigning royalty of St. Jude's.

The university forums even buzzed with rumors that her family was hyping her up for an entertainment debut, though she ultimately chose to study abroad.

Mallory let out a bitter, cynical laugh. "Yeah. The gorgeous, filthy-rich heiress and the cold, impoverished genius scholar. What a perfectly dramatic storyline for everyone to obsess over."

Mallory didn't elaborate, and Jillian didn't push.

After a few more heavy pours, the alcohol fully hit Mallory. She draped herself over Jillian, her words slurring together.

"Jill, do you think I was wrong to curse Sylvia out?"

Jillian shook her head.

"Hell no. We grew up in the same circles. I've known exactly what kind of person she is since we were kids. She demands that the entire universe revolves around her. If she sees someone else with something good, she'll snatch it away just for the thrill of it, even if she doesn't actually want it. Let me tell you, you have to stay as far away from a toxic bitch like that as possible. No, wait—it's better to just slap her right in the face..."

After drinking for a while longer, Mallory demanded to go downstairs and dance. Jillian stayed right by her side.

The second and third floors were exclusive private suites, while the ground floor housed the main dance floor and open booths.

Jillian and Mallory had just settled into a booth when Killian's group descended the stairs.

A wild dance-off was happening in the center of the room. Neon lights sliced through the smoke and liquor-soaked air, illuminating the crowd as the bass thumped against their chests. Everyone was fueled by the alcohol, completely losing themselves in the chaotic energy.

Jillian and Mallory stayed seated. Every now and then, Mallory would let out a loud cheer toward the dancers.

Suddenly, Jillian felt a heavy gaze resting on her. She instinctively looked over and saw Gibson giving her a curt nod.

She offered zero acknowledgment. Her eyes slid past him with absolute indifference, completely erasing him from her line of sight.

Gibson's brow furrowed, his attention completely detaching from the party around him.

He couldn't figure out why Jillian had abruptly fired him, nor why she was suddenly treating him like a stranger.

"Everything alright?" Preston asked from across the table.

"It's nothing. Just work stuff. One of my patients abruptly changed doctors."

Their booth positioning was terrible.

She was directly facing Gibson, which meant Mallory was sitting directly across from Preston.

If Preston simply lifted his eyes, he would have a perfect view of her.

Yet, Mallory deliberately turned her back to him, slouching against the seat like a total delinquent, catcalling the dancers grinding on the floor.

Jillian took a slow sip of her water, using her peripheral vision to scan Preston.

Preston held his drink, engaging in relaxed conversation with Killian with a faint smile. He seemed completely oblivious to Mallory's existence.

"Mallory," Jillian said softly, tapping her friend's arm.

"Let's switch seats."

Without a fuss, they swapped places.

When Gibson finished replying to a work email and looked up again, he found himself staring directly at Mallory, while Jillian only offered him a sharp, angled view of her back.