Fredrick's Betrayal

The banquet hall was alive with the buzz of laughter, champagne glasses clinking, and the quiet arrogance of wealth. Crystal chandeliers spilled golden light across velvet carpets, catching the sparkle of diamond necklaces and polished shoes.

Waiters in white gloves moved between clusters of men in bespoke suits and women draped in gowns worth more than Frederick’s entire yearly existence.

He stood alone in the corner, shoulders stiff, watching his wife. Sonia.

Her beauty was undeniable. Tonight she wore a crimson dress that clung to her like fire itself, her skin radiant under the chandelier’s glow.

Her smile, once Frederick’s greatest treasure, was now directed at another man. Leonel Cruz, the celebrity, the rising star, the man everyone in the room seemed to adore.

Frederick’s fists clenched at his sides as Leonel leaned closer, whispering into Sonia’s ear. She laughed, tilting her head back in a way Frederick hadn’t seen in years. The sound stabbed at his chest.

“Frederick.”

The voice was sharp. Mrs. Kingston, Sonia’s mother, approached with disdain etched into every line of her powdered face.

“You’re just standing here? Do you think you belong with these people?” she hissed, her jeweled fingers tightening around her clutch.

Frederick kept his voice low. “I’m here with Sonia. I belong wherever my wife does.”

She sneered. “Don’t delude yourself. My daughter made the worst mistake marrying you. A man with nothing, no money, no influence, no respect. Look around. Do you see anyone acknowledging you? You’re invisible.”

“I love your daughter,” he said, teeth grinding.

Mrs. Kingston laughed without humor. “Love? Love doesn’t pay for the roof over her head or the dress she’s wearing. Do you even know how much that gown cost? Of course not, you couldn’t afford the shoes on her feet. My daughter is chained to a beggar.”

Frederick’s knuckles whitened. “No matter what you think, I’m still her husband.”

Her eyes flicked toward the stage where Leonel was now taking Sonia’s hand with practiced charm. “Not for long. My daughter deserves better, and she’s already found it.”

The words seared into Frederick like acid. He pushed past Mrs. Kingston and strode toward Sonia.

“Sonia,” he said, stopping just a step away.

She turned, her eyes narrowing as though he had intruded into a private world. “What is it now?”

“We need to talk.”

Leonel smirked, adjusting his silk tie. “You’re interrupting, friend.”

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Frederick snapped, his voice sharp enough to turn heads.

Sonia’s jaw tightened. “Frederick, not here. Don’t make a scene.”

“A scene?” His voice trembled with restrained anger. “You’ve been laughing with him all night while I—”

“While you what?” she cut in, her voice rising. The nearby crowd stilled, hungry for drama. “Stand in the corner like a lost child? Do you know how humiliating it is to be married to you? Everyone is whispering about your cheap suit, your empty wallet. Look at you, you couldn’t even buy yourself a tie clip!”

A ripple of laughter spread through the guests. Frederick’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. “Sonia… I’m your husband.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “A husband in name only. You can’t provide, can’t protect, can’t even command basic respect. Look at Leonel. Look at the difference. Why should I chain myself to you just because of a piece of paper?”

Gasps echoed across the hall. Leonel placed a possessive hand on her waist. “You heard the lady. She deserves better. Don’t make her beg for freedom.”

Frederick’s fists curled, heat rising in his veins. “Remove your hand.”

Leonel smirked. “Or what? You’ll hit me? That would be the only headline you’d ever make: broke husband attacks celebrity.”

The crowd laughed louder. Sonia’s eyes, cold and cutting, silenced Frederick more than Leonel’s mockery. “Don’t you dare embarrass me tonight, Frederick. If you ever loved me, just walk away. Don’t drag me down with you.”

His voice cracked. “So that’s it? You throw away our vows because I don’t have money?”

Her reply was ice. “Love doesn’t pay the bills. I don’t need a man who drags me into the gutter. Maybe I once loved you, but look at you now, you’re nothing.”

The words struck harder than any physical blow. Mrs. Kingston’s voice rang above the murmurs. “Enough! Frederick Corbin, leave this hall at once. You’ve embarrassed us long enough. From this moment, Sonia begins a new life. Without you.”

Frederick’s chest heaved. He looked into Sonia’s eyes, searching desperately for a flicker of the woman he had married, the woman who once believed in him. All he found was cold indifference.

Slowly, deliberately, he spoke: “Remember this night. Every word. Every laugh. Every insult. You’ll regret it.”

Laughter swelled, cruel and mocking, as he turned and walked out of the hall. The night air slapped against his face, cold and merciless.

Frederick walked aimlessly, his shoes scraping against the empty pavement, his mind a storm of shame and rage. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out, expecting another debt reminder, another humiliating message. Instead, the screen flashed an unknown number.

For a moment, he considered ignoring it. But something compelled him to answer.

“Hello?”

A deep, calm voice responded. “Mr. Frederick Corbin?”

Frederick’s breath caught. “Yes… who’s asking?”

“My name is Harold Whitmore. I represent the estate of your late grandfather, Alexander Corbin.”

Frederick blinked, the name a forgotten echo of childhood. “My grandfather…? He cut ties with me years ago.”

The voice was steady. “He cut ties with your father, not with you. Your grandfather passed away recently. And he left behind a will. According to it, you are the sole heir to the Corbin empire.”

Frederick stumbled to a halt under a streetlight. “What… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Harold continued, “that starting tomorrow, you will inherit control of Corbin Holdings, one of the wealthiest conglomerates in the world. The power, the assets, the name… it’s all yours now.”

Silence thundered in Frederick’s ears. “This… this must be a mistake,” he whispered.

“There is no mistake. Pack your things. Tomorrow, the world will know you not as the humiliated son-in-law… but as the rightful President of Corbin Holdings.”

The line went dead. Frederick stood frozen beneath the streetlight, phone trembling in his hand. For the first time in years, he felt the surge of something powerful, something undeniable. Hope. No… more than hope. Power.

His lips curved into a slow, bitter smile as his thoughts turned back to Sonia, to Leonel, to Mrs. Kingston, and to every laugh that had echoed in that banquet hall.

They mocked me tonight. Tomorrow, they will bow. And deep inside, another thought burned even brighter: When Sonia comes crawling back… will I take her?