THE SUBSTITUTE HUSBAND BECAME HIS WIFE'S BOSS

Chapter 11

Outside the Grand Palace Hotel, Carmen Rodriguez stood on the sidewalk, her face contorted with rage as she watched the entrance.

Her expensive jewelry glinted under the streetlights, but her disheveled hair and smeared makeup told the story of her humiliation.

"That bastard!" she spat, her voice shaking. "That ungrateful piece of trash and his whore!"

A sleek car pulled up to the curb, and Isabella emerged in her red Valentino gown, followed by Alejandro in his tailored suit. Both froze at the sight of Carmen's furious expression.

"Mother?" Isabella's eyes widened. "What are you doing out here? Why aren't you inside?"

"That bastard Diego!" Carmen shrieked, pointing at the hotel entrance. "He had me thrown out! He's inside with some hotel lobby manager he's clearly sleeping with, and she ordered the guards to drag me out like common garbage!"

"What?" Isabella's face drained of color. "Diego is here?"

"He must be trying to sabotage the celebration!" Her shock morphed into rage. "First he ruins my partnership with Ricardo Vega, now he sneaks into this banquet to cause more trouble? How dare he!"

"Don't worry, mi amor. ” Alejandro placed a calming hand on Isabella's shoulder, his voice smooth and confident. “Once Ricardo Vega hears about this incident, he'll deal with it immediately. I'll make sure that lobby manager is fired on the spot and forced to apologize to your mother personally."

"You can do that?" Carmen's eyes lit up with vindictive hope.

"Of course." Alejandro puffed his chest. "Ricardo Vega owes us a debt of gratitude for the ancient ginseng root that saved his daughter. He'll be more than happy to punish a mere employee who disrespected the family of his benefactor."

Isabella's anger eased slightly, replaced by satisfaction. "You're right. Diego and his whore will get exactly what they deserve tonight."

Carmen nodded eagerly. "And I want to see it happen! I want to watch that bitch grovel at my feet!"

She moved toward the entrance, but two security guards immediately stepped forward, blocking her path.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," one guard said firmly. "You've been removed from the premises. You're not permitted to enter."

"What? But I'm with them!" Carmen gestured frantically at Isabella and Alejandro. "They're honored guests!"

The guard's expression remained impassive. "Our orders are clear. You are not allowed inside."

"This is outrageous!" Carmen's face turned purple. "I'll have your jobs for this!"

"Mother, it's fine," Isabella said quickly, her voice tight. She couldn't afford another scene, not tonight. "Just go home and wait for us. Once Alejandro speaks to Ricardo Vega, everything will be sorted out. We'll make sure Diego and that woman are properly punished."

"But I want to see—"

"Mother, please!" Isabella's tone sharpened. "Go home. We'll handle this."

Carmen's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes burning with resentment. "Fine. But I expect that woman to come to our house tomorrow morning and apologize on her knees."

"She will," Alejandro assured smoothly. "You have my word."

Carmen shot one last venomous glare at the hotel before turning away, her heels clicking angrily against the pavement as she disappeared into the night.

Inside the Grand Palace Hotel's magnificent ballroom, crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the assembled guests. Business elites mingled in clusters, their designer clothes and expensive watches reflecting their status.

Waiters glided between groups with silver trays of champagne and delicate hors d'oeuvres.

Diego sat alone at one of the main tables near the front, quietly eating a pastry.

His simple dark suit stood in stark contrast to the flamboyant displays of wealth around him, but his calm composure drew occasional curious glances.

He seemed utterly unbothered by the chatter and social maneuvering happening throughout the room.

Esperanza had excused herself earlier to prepare for the formal proceedings, leaving him to observe the gathering in peace.

The ballroom doors opened, and Isabella entered on Alejandro's arm. Immediately, several socialites turned their attention to the striking couple.

"Is that Isabella Rodriguez?" a woman in diamonds whispered.

"The comeback queen herself," another replied. "She looks beautiful."

Isabella's face lit up at the murmurs. She squeezed Alejandro's arm and raised her voice slightly, ensuring nearby guests could hear.

"I'm just so grateful Ricardo Vega's daughter recovered. When Alejandro told me about her condition, I knew we had to help."

"You helped save Miss Vega?" A businessman approached eagerly. "How remarkable!"

"Well," Isabella adopted a modest expression that didn't quite reach her eyes, "Alejandro managed to acquire an extremely rare thousand-year ginseng root. We presented it to the Vega family, and miraculously, Miss Vega recovered almost immediately."

The socialites crowded closer, their voices rising with excitement and praise.

"Thousand-year ginseng! That must have cost a fortune!"

"How generous of you both!"

"No wonder Mr. Vega is throwing such an elaborate celebration!"

"You're clearly going to be the star of his new film now!"

"With Ricardo Vega's backing, you'll be at the top of the industry again in no time!"

Isabella basked in the attention, her smile radiant. "I'm just honored to have been able to help. Family is everything, after all."

Alejandro stood straighter, enjoying the admiring glances directed at him. "It was nothing, really. When you have the right connections, anything is possible."

"I heard Ricardo Vega personally invited you both," a woman gushed. "He must be so grateful!"

"Of course he is," Isabella replied confidently. "Saving his daughter's life—there's no greater gift one can give."

The crowd continued to shower them with compliments, treating Isabella like the evening's guest of honor. She soaked in every word, her earlier fury at Diego temporarily forgotten in the warm glow of validation.

Then Alejandro's gaze swept across the ballroom, and his expression suddenly froze. "Isabella."

"What?" She followed his stare toward the main table at the front of the room.

Her breath caught.

There, sitting calmly and alone, eating pastries as if he owned the place, was Diego.

"What the hell is he doing sitting there?" Isabella's voice dropped to a hiss. "That's one of the main tables!"

Alejandro's face darkened. "That bastard has some nerve. After what he did to your mother—"

"How did he even get that seat?" Isabella's hands clenched into fists. "Those tables are reserved for VIPs only!"

Isabella's humiliation burned through her chest. Here she was, being celebrated as the savior of the Vega family, and her worthless ex-husband had the audacity to sit at a place of honor?

She pulled away from the crowd of admirers and marched toward Diego's table, Alejandro following close behind. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, each step fueled by rage and wounded pride.

Diego looked up as they approached, his expression utterly calm. He set down his pastry and wiped his fingers on a napkin, his movements unhurried.

"Well, well," Isabella's voice dripped with venom. "Look what garbage washed up tonight."