The Billionaire's Mistake (Anya and Daniel) novel Chapter 300

Donald stood uncomfortably at the gala, awkwardly sipping a glass of champagne as dignitaries and influential figures mingled around him.

He had never been one for these stuffy social events, preferring to keep his head down and focus on his work.

But tonight was important; Jason Grey was here. He had hoped to have a conversation with him but Jason seemed hostile towards him.

As a cluster of ambassadors and executives approached him, Donald straightened his tie and tried his best to look engaged. One portly diplomat extended his hand.

"Ah, Donald! An honor to meet you. We've all heard so much about the incredible work you and your wife Elena have been doing."

Donald's smile froze on his face as the man continued effusively.

"Elena is simply brilliant from what I understand. The way she has been handling negotiations and brokering those international deals behind the scenes...remarkable woman. You are a lucky man."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group as they lavished praise on Elena.

Donald could only nod dumbly, his stomach tying itself in knots.

Of course none of these people knew that he and Elena had divorced a while ago after her relentless focus on work tore their marriage apart.

But clearly, based on their comments, Elena had been much more involved in the company's dealings than Donald realized.

He had never once given her a glance or time of the day. He had only brought her out to these events because she begged and insisted to go. Finding out that she had been paving way for him made him uncomfortable.

He had no idea she was the one strategically greasing the wheels to help push his projects forward.

A flush of shame crept up Donald's neck as he absorbed the extent to which he had been obliviously taking credit for Elena's behind-the-scenes dealings this entire time.

No. He never asked her to do this. She had done this on her own. He had no reason to feel uncomfortable. But he still did.

"Yes...my wife is, uh, quite remarkable," Donald managed to choke out, barely registering the woman next to him who was his date for the event, while Melanie still in the hospital

As the group of dignitaries finally dispersed, Donald felt a presence looming over his shoulder.

"Well, well, if it isn't the great Donald Mitchell," a syrupy voice dripped with contempt.

Donald turned to see Bruce sneering at him coldly.

"What do you want, Bruce?" Donald sighed, lacking the energy to endure whatever mind he wanted to say.

Bruce was hostile to him all night and if he was not from the famous Grey family, Donald would have thrown a punch.

"Just calling it like I see it," Bruce said with a cruel smile. "Sounds like your beloved Elena was the real brains behind this whole operation. Without her working her magic, you're basically just..."

He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Well, nothing, really. Just thank your lucky stars she stuck by your clueless self for as long as she did."

Donald's fists clenched, but before he could retort, Bruce had already slithered off into the crowd, leaving him seething. He scanned the gala, trying to locate Elena's familiar face. There she was, across the marbled floor, engaged in what seemed to be a very cozy conversation with none other than Bruce himself.

Something ugly and primal flared within Donald's chest as he watched them laugh together. He waved off his bewildered date and strode over, his ears burning.

"Elena," he spoke in a harsh tone that made her whip around. "A word?"