Chapter 4

Mel's POV

The gala was held in the grand ballroom on the second floor of a luxury hotel, the overhead chandeliers blindingly bright.

Holding Zachary’s arm, I stepped through the main doors.

The ambient chatter in the hall plummeted instantly, every gaze in the room locking firmly onto me.

I overheard a murmur from a cluster near the left lounge:

"Mr. Hayes actually brought her out? Wasn't she biting anyone who came near her a few years ago?"

"Anyone else would have kept a lunatic wife locked up at home."

"She’s nothing but skin and bones, completely drained of color. If you ask me, she’s still out of her mind."

I kept my chin slightly raised, my right hand gripping Zachary’s suit sleeve until my knuckles turned stark white.

Zachary placed his hand over mine, giving it two steady pats, playing the role of the devoted, doting husband to perfection.

Just as I moved toward the drink station, a sudden flash of red charged into my peripheral vision.

A woman in a vibrant red strapless evening gown rushed forward and threw her arms tightly around me.

Her voice rose in a high-pitched squeal. "Mel! It’s really you! When I heard you were discharged, I couldn't sleep all night!"

A wave of cloying, sweet perfume hit me full force.

The exact same scent lingering on Zachary’s collar.

I shoved her shoulders back, stepping back half a pace to get a clear look at her face.

It was Wendy.

My absolute closest friend from our college days.

I found my footing. "Wendy?"

Wendy’s eyes rimmed with red as she reached out to grab my freezing hand.

"It’s me!" Wendy said earnestly. "During the three years you were away, I often went to the house to tidy up for you. Zachary was all by himself, so I looked after him too."

I stared into her eyes. "You often looked after him—for three whole years?"

Without missing a beat, Wendy offered a gentle, submissive smile. "We’re best friends; taking care of him in your place was the least I could do."

I clamped my hand around her wrist. "I just have one question. Who wrote that sticky note on the fridge? And who made the soup sitting on the stove?"

Wendy’s wrist went momentarily stiff. She smoothly slipped free of my grasp and effortlessly hooked her arm through Zachary’s other side.

Tilting her head toward Zachary, Wendy sighed playfully, "Look at Mel. She comes right back and suspects me. It must be from being cooped up in that place for so long—it makes you overthink everything."

Zachary looked down at Wendy, a faint smile playing on his lips.

I stood rooted to the spot, watching with cold detachment as their shoulders pressed closely together.

They didn't even bother hiding it in front of me anymore.

Wendy raised her hand, brushing back her voluminous curls.

Resting on her left ring finger was a massive, flawless pink diamond ring. Its exquisite cut caught the light, sending dazzling flashes across the room.

I recognized that ring.

In an auction catalog just last week, Zachary had dropped eight figures to win this very pink diamond—a stunt that dominated the business headlines for three straight days.

Several female guests holding champagne flutes gathered nearby, their gazes darting back and forth between the two of us.

"That pink diamond on Miss Wendy's hand... that’s the one Mr. Hayes bought last week, isn't it?"

"He dropped millions on a ring for Wendy, but look at the junk hanging from his wife’s ears. You can buy those cheap silver wires at a flea market."

Standing there, the cheap silver threads felt like burning needles against my earlobes.

Zachary bought a multimillion-dollar diamond ring for his mistress, yet tossed a pair of five-dollar scraps to placate his wife.

Zachary reached out and lightly pulled my shoulder. "Wendy is your best friend. Don't let your mind wander."

I kept my gaze fixed on Wendy. "A best friend indeed. She’s completely taken my place."

Wendy covered her mouth, letting out a soft laugh as she leaned gently into Zachary’s chest.

"Mel, back in college, we even pooled our allowances," Wendy said sweetly. "Zachary treats me well purely out of respect for you. You can’t be mad at me."

As she spoke, her fingers casually traced the sapphire cufflinks on Zachary’s wrist, moving with the practiced ease of the lady of the house.

Zachary gazed down at Wendy, the undisguised adoration in his eyes impossible to miss.

I stood two steps away, an unwanted intruder forced into their domestic picture.

Snatching a glass of ice water from a passing waiter’s tray, I tipped my head back and swallowed half of it down.

The freezing liquid rushed down my throat, chilling my chest to the bone.

Silently, I made a precise mental note of the pink diamond on Wendy’s hand and the brand-new cufflinks on Zachary’s wrists.

Another solid link in the chain of evidence for asset dissipation.

Every mocking glance and calculated humiliation directed at me tonight would be forged into hard evidence and laid neatly before the judge.