Husband’s Mistress, Meet His Bankruptcy - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Holly's words hung in the air, and just like that, the tension in the room dissolved. The CEOs visibly relaxed, their smirks widening as their mockery of me grew bolder. But their petty jabs were the least of my concerns.
I studied their smug, laughing faces, a sharp pang of disappointment cutting through me. This was San Diego's so-called business elite? All this drama because I refused a drink?
Pathetic.
They could call me a trophy wife, a useless woman—whatever they wanted. Words like that meant nothing to me. But what did sting was the realization that I couldn't even command respect within my own company.
Was this the price of staying too low-key?
Thanks to my… unique position, I'd spent years out of the spotlight. Rarely seen in public. Even when I caught whispers among employees—gossip about me, my marriage—I'd always brushed it off. Not worth my time. But now, the consequences of my indifference were staring me in the face.
My silence had emboldened them. Holly, mistaking my restraint for weakness, slid a tray of wine glasses toward me with a smirk. "Eleanor, ten glasses. Drink up, and you're free to go."
She leaned in, her voice dripping with condescension. "We'll pretend tonight never happened, and you can go back to being your pretty little trophy self."
Her secretary tapped a manicured nail against a glass, eyes glinting with malice. "But if you refuse… well, let's just say you won't be leaving this room."
I clenched my jaw, my voice icy. "Holly, are you trying to get yourself killed? Or have you forgotten I'm allergic to alcohol?"
She scoffed, tilting her head like I was some amusing nuisance. "A few glasses won't kill you." With a dismissive wave, she added, "The champagne's right here. Your choice."
Her audacity almost made me laugh. Even James's father wouldn't dare speak to me like this. Yet here was Holly—a glorified secretary—acting like she held all the power.
It only made me more curious about who was really pulling her strings.
"Miss Green, I'm done wasting my breath on you," I said coldly. "Tell your boss to come out. Hiding in the shadows is cowardly—unless they're too scared to face me?"
The moment the words left my lips, the door swung open.
A woman around my age strolled in, confidence radiating off her.
"Miss Hawking," she purred. "You're not as stupid as everyone says."
" King?!" Holly gasped.
The room fell dead silent. The once-arrogant CEOs scrambled to their feet, bowing their heads like obedient dogs.
Ah. So that's how it is.
"So," I said, unfazed, "you're the one behind Miss Green's little performance."
slid into the seat across from me, posture flawless, exuding self-assurance. "Guilty as charged," she said smoothly. "I am Holly's boss. King—though you may call me Miss King, like everyone else."
She crossed her legs, her tone dripping with faux sweetness. "If the Woods family wants to expand into Los Angeles, they'll need my support."
Her arrogance was polished, more refined than Holly's, but just as grating. I barely glanced at her before looking away.
"Miss King, I assume this is about my husband."
nodded, her lips curling into a mock-pitying smile. "Miss Hawking, from what I hear, you've been married to James for three years and haven't even held his hand." She sighed dramatically. "What a shame."
Then, her smirk sharpened. "But after tonight, your husband will belong to the King family."
I expected anger. Betrayal. Resentment. Instead, all I felt was relief.
A soft laugh escaped me. "So that's what this is about. Now I get it."
I leaned back in my chair, utterly indifferent. "If you want my husband that badly, Miss King, be my guest."
's composure flickered—just for a second. She hadn't expected calm. And that told me everything. I'd already won.
"Aren't you even angry?" she taunted, tilting her head like she was waiting for me to crack.
I waved a hand, smiling. "Why would I be? In fact, I should thank Mr. Oswald. Without his meddling, I wouldn't have known how to cut ties with the Woods family." My smile turned razor-sharp. "But let me remind you, Miss King. Those who cross me don't live to regret it."
's face darkened. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she snapped at Holly: "What are you waiting for? Do it."
Before I could react, Holly grabbed a champagne bottle and smashed it over my head. Pain exploded through my skull, and I crumpled to the floor.
She didn't stop there. Fists, kicks—each blow sent fresh waves of agony through me. By the time she stepped back, my vision swam, my body screaming in protest.
"Enough," ordered. "Don't kill her."
She crouched beside me, gripping my chin with bruising force. "Listen, you pathetic bitch. Consider this a warning. Stay out of my way, or next time, I'll handle you myself."
Gritting my teeth, I forced myself upright, meeting her gaze without flinching. "The King family of Los Angeles? Please. You're nothing special."
's face twisted in rage. "You dare—?"
She snatched up a chair, raising it high—
BANG!
The door burst open.
All heads snapped toward the entrance.
"Mr. Woods?!" one of the businessmen blurted out, shock plastered across his face.