Chapter 4 - THE EXIT
“Evelyn?” Sabrina’s voice was a pathetic squeak. The diamonds at her throat suddenly seemed like a tight, suffocating collar. “Evelyn, this is a joke, right? You’re an analyst. You work in a cubicle.”
“I worked in a cubicle seven years ago, Sabrina,” Evelyn said calmly. She adjusted the heavy, expensive jacket on her shoulders. “I told you I was an analyst. I never told you my firm, nor my rank, because every time I tried to talk about my life, you interrupted to complain about the floral arrangements or the carat size of your ring.”
Luis, the young server with the white towel, watched with wide, vindicated eyes.
“You can’t do this to us!” Vivienne stepped forward, pointing a trembling, manicured finger. “We are the Halstons! You are nobody! A... a grocery store clerk from Milwaukee!”
Evelyn didn’t flinch. “Value and price, Vivienne. You only understand price. You paid one hundred thousand dollars for this ballroom tonight, but its true value is zero because you don’t own a single brick of it anymore.”
Adrian placed a protective hand on the small of Evelyn's back. The touch was strictly professional, yet sent a jolt of unprecedented warmth through her spine. “We have seen enough,” he said to Evelyn. “Let’s go.”
As they turned to leave, Grant finally found his voice. “Evelyn, wait! Please! We can talk about this! We’ve known each other for years!”
May you like
Evelyn paused and looked over her shoulder at the spineless man who had stood by while she was humiliated. “We don’t know each other at all, Grant. And as for you, Sabrina...” Evelyn looked at the bride one last time. “You were right about one thing. I should be grateful. You finally showed me exactly who you are, which makes signing the liquidation papers tomorrow incredibly easy.”
With that, Evelyn and Adrian walked out of the Whitmore Palace Hotel. They left behind a room descending into absolute chaos, the sound of the jazz quartet replaced by the frantic shouts of ruined billionaires.
