CHAPTER 4
Author: Ace Wolf
last update2026-02-16 20:38:34

 

From where I sat, I had a clear view of the central table.

Guests leaned toward her eagerly.

“Miss Davenport, you look absolutely radiant tonight.”

“We are all so happy for your recovery.”

“It truly is a blessing.”

Their smiles were wide. Their praise sounded sincere.

But her parents’ expressions were different.

They smiled too, but their eyes were calculating.

Her mother leaned slightly toward her and spoke in a low voice that was meant to sound private but went farther than she realized.

“Sonia,” she said gently, “you need to stop looking over there.”

Sonia blinked. “Looking where?”

Her mother’s lips tightened. “At him, Leonard.”

“You should not make it obvious that you are married to someone like that,” her mother continued, her tone sharpening slightly. “People are watching.”

Sonia frowned faintly. “Why does that matter?”

Her father moved closer now, his voice lower but colder.

“This kind of banquet is not casual,” he said. “These gatherings shape perception. Appearances matter.”

“I am married,” Sonia replied calmly.

Her mother exhaled in frustration. “That is exactly the issue. You are beautiful again. You are standing on your own feet. Do you understand what that means?”

Sonia looked at her without answering.

“It means your value has changed,” her mother said bluntly. “And people will associate you with him.”

She cast a brief glance in my direction.

“He is dragging you down,” her father added. “A man with no career, no status, no background. You deserve someone who matches your position, not our janitor.”

They called me a janitor, having no clue I chose this life to keep my identity hidden. 

I saw Sonia’s fingers curl tightly against the fabric of her dress.

“He is my husband,” she repeated, more firmly this time.

Her mother’s patience snapped slightly.

“Do you know what people are calling him?” she asked. “They are laughing. They are calling him a pig.”

Even from across the room, I heard it.

The word traveled clearly.

Sonia’s face became pale.

“That is enough,” she said, her voice shaking.

Before her parents could respond, another voice joined the conversation smoothly.

“Mr. Davenport,” Greg said lightly, lifting his wine glass as if amused, “you are worrying too much. Some truths do not need to be announced loudly.”

He glanced toward me deliberately this time.

“But,” he added casually, “some things are obvious.”

The people seated nearby kept listening, pretending to be engaged with other things.

Greg turned his body slightly, raising his voice just enough to draw attention without seeming aggressive.

“Leonard, right?”

I looked up at him calmly. “Yes.”

He smiled slowly, a confident, practiced smile.

“That suit is… interesting,” he said.

A few people chuckled immediately.

“Where did you buy it?” he continued. “It looks vintage. Or is it second-hand?”

Laughter spreads more openly now.

Someone muttered, “This is embarrassing.”

I glanced down briefly at my suit, then back at him.

Sonia suddenly stood up.

“That is enough, Greg,” she said sharply.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I am only asking questions. People are curious about your husband.”

Her father intervened immediately.

“Sonia, sit down,” he said firmly. “Do not cause a scene.”

“I am not causing a scene,” she replied.

“This is about family dignity,” her mother said sharply. “Do not embarrass us.”

Sonia opened her mouth as if to argue further, but the pressure in the room was overwhelming. Every eye was on her.

Slowly, reluctantly, she sat back down.

Her hands were trembling.

Greg’s smile widened slightly when he saw that no one would stop him.

He took a step closer toward my table, swirling the wine lazily in his glass.

“You know,” he began conversationally, “I truly admire Sonia. She endured years of hardship. A woman like that deserves the very best.”

He paused for a moment.

“The best man this continent can offer,” he added smoothly, “not someone who cannot even secure a stable job.”

His gaze locked onto mine.

Then, in one smooth motion that looked accidental but was deliberate, he tipped  his glass.

Red wine spilled forward.

It poured over my chest, soaking into my clothes instantly.

Gasps filled the room.

Then laughter followed.

“Oh!” Greg exclaimed, feigning shock. “I am terribly sorry.”

The wine dripped slowly down the fabric, staining it deeply.

The laughter grew louder.

“Look at him.”

“He will not even dare to protest.”

Greg leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel intimate but still audible.

“I will pay for the cleaning,” he said casually. “Although…” his eyes traveled down my suit with exaggerated inspection, “…it may cost more than the suit itself.”

More laughter erupted.

Then he straightened and raised his voice confidently.

“Sonia deserves someone who can stand proudly beside her,” he declared. “Someone who matches her status.”

He looked directly at me and said calmly, “If you disagree, speak.”

The room grew quiet as the attention shifted toward me. All eyes turned in my direction.

I could feel Sonia’s gaze on my back. There was shame in it, and anger, and something close to confusion.

Without rushing, I reached for a napkin and wiped the wine from my hands, then from my chest. 

The laughter slowly faded as silence replaced it.  

I stood up. Greg watched me with visible amusement as I approached him.

I met his eyes calmly, my expression was not of anger or humiliation.

“Are you finished?” I asked Greg. Everyone's eyes were on me, wondering what gave me the boldness.

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