The Beggar Husband She Divorced Is a Trillionaire

Chapter 5

Margaret Chase stood outside Vantage, her face flushed with rage and humiliation. The security guards had retreated to their posts, refusing to meet her eyes. The manager had disappeared inside with Logan, leaving her standing on the sidewalk like common trash.

Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone and jabbed at Vivian's contact.

It rang twice before her daughter answered.

"Mother, I'm getting ready. What is it?"

"Vivian!" Margaret's voice came out in a strangled hiss. "You need to get Brandon to fix this. Right now."

There was a pause. "Fix what?"

"That ex-husband of yours followed you here! To Vantage! And somehow — I don't know how he did it, probably lied or bribed someone — but he got inside. The manager actually escorted him in personally while I was left standing outside like some beggar!"

"What?" Vivian's voice sharpened. "Logan is there?"

"Yes! That pathetic leech somehow conned his way past security. I tried to stop them, but the manager threatened me. Threatened me, Vivian! Said he'd revoke Brandon's platinum membership if I caused a scene. Can you believe the audacity?"

Vivian was silent for a moment, and Margaret could practically hear her daughter's mind working.

"He followed me," Vivian said finally, her voice cold. "Of course he did. He can't handle the fact that I've moved on. That I'm with someone better. Someone who actually matters."

"Exactly!" Margaret snapped. "Which is why you need to get Brandon to handle this. He knows the manager. He can have Logan thrown out on his ass where he belongs."

"I'll call Brandon now," Vivian said. "Don't worry, Mother. Logan made a mistake coming here. A very big mistake."

The line went dead.

Inside the VIP dining room on the restaurant's middle floor, Vivian lowered her phone and turned to Brandon Holt, who sat across from her looking every bit the successful executive he claimed to be. Tall, polished, wearing a suit that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent.

"Brandon," Vivian said, her voice smooth but urgent. "We have a situation."

Brandon looked up from his wine glass, his brow furrowing slightly. "What kind of situation?"

"My ex-husband somehow got into the restaurant. My mother says he's here, probably to cause trouble or humiliate me. She was denied entry because of him."

Brandon's expression darkened. "That's unacceptable. Don't worry, darling. The manager here is a good friend of mine. I'll handle it."

He pulled out his phone with the confidence of a man who had never been told no in his life.

Vivian watched him dial, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. This was exactly what she needed. Brandon taking charge. Brandon solving problems. Brandon being the kind of man Logan could never be.

The phone rang. Once. Twice.

Then Daniel Cross answered, and his voice was not friendly.

"Mr. Holt. What can I do for you?"

Brandon's smile faltered slightly at the tone, but he pressed on. "Daniel, good to hear from you. Listen, there's been a mix-up at the entrance. My future mother-in-law was denied entry because of some nobody who—"

"Mr. Holt." Daniel's voice cut through like ice. "I'm aware of the situation. And I'm going to stop you right there."

Brandon blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Do you know who is dining on the top floor tonight?"

"I… no. Why does that matter?"

"It matters," Daniel said, his voice dropping to something cold and dangerous, "because Samuel Wright and the CEO of Imperial Group are hosting a very important guest. A guest whose identity I cannot disclose but whose presence supersedes every other consideration in this restaurant tonight. Including your mother-in-law's complaints."

Brandon's face went pale. "Samuel Wright? The president of the Creston City Chamber of Commerce?"

"And the CEO of Imperial Group," Daniel repeated slowly, as if speaking to a child. "The same Imperial Group that just partnered with your fiancée's company. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Mr. Holt?"

Vivian leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "What's he saying?" she whispered.

Brandon held up a finger, his expression frozen somewhere between shock and panic.

"Your future mother-in-law," Daniel continued, "caused a scene at the entrance. She disrupted the atmosphere of this establishment and insulted a guest of the highest priority. If she continues to make noise outside, I will not only deny her entry — I will personally ensure that you, your fiancée, and your entire party are removed from the premises. And your platinum membership will be revoked. Permanently."

Brandon's throat worked. "Daniel, I—"

"Furthermore," Daniel's voice hardened even more, "if I receive one more complaint, one more disruption, one more second of drama related to your party, I will personally call Samuel Wright and inform him that the disturbance came from associates of Stellar Finance. Do you want me to do that, Mr. Holt?"

The blood drained from Brandon's face entirely. "No. No, of course not."

"Then I suggest you tell your future mother-in-law to go home. Immediately. And if I were you, I would spend the rest of this evening being very, very quiet."

The line went dead.

Brandon stared at his phone like it had just bitten him.

"Brandon?" Vivian's voice was sharp now, tinged with worry. "What did he say?"

Brandon set the phone down slowly, his hand trembling slightly. "He said… he said Samuel Wright and the CEO of Imperial Group are upstairs. Hosting someone."

Vivian's eyes widened. "Samuel Wright is here? Tonight?"

"And Marcus Reed," Brandon added, his voice hollow. "The CEO of Imperial Group."

For a moment, Vivian forgot about Logan entirely. Samuel Wright was one of the most powerful men in Creston City — a kingmaker, a man whose single word could make or break entire industries. And Marcus Reed was the face of Imperial Group, the empire that had just agreed to partner with her company.

Both of them. Here. Tonight.

"Who are they hosting?" Vivian asked.

"He wouldn't say." Brandon ran a hand through his hair, his earlier confidence completely evaporated. "But whoever it is, Daniel made it very clear that we don't matter compared to them. He threatened to kick us out, Vivian. Threatened to revoke my membership. And if we cause any more trouble, he'll tell Samuel Wright and Marcus Reed that we were the ones disrupting their dinner."

Vivian's jaw tightened. "What about my mother?"

"He said she needs to leave. Now. Before she causes more problems."

Vivian grabbed her phone and called her mother back.

Margaret answered immediately. "Did Brandon fix it?"

"Mother, you need to go home."

"What? No! Vivian, that little worm is inside and I'm stuck out here like—"

"Mother!" Vivian's voice cracked like a whip. "Samuel Wright is in that restaurant right now. And the CEO of Imperial Group. If you keep making a scene, you're going to ruin everything. Do you understand? Everything. The partnership, the deal, all of it. Go. Home."

There was silence on the other end.

Then, finally, a sharp intake of breath. "Fine," Margaret bit out. "But this isn't over. That pathetic ex-husband of yours—"

"I'll handle Logan," Vivian said coldly. "Just leave. Now."

She ended the call and set her phone down, her mind racing.

Across the table, Brandon was staring into his wine glass like it held answers.

"Samuel Wright and Marcus Reed," Vivian murmured. "Both here. Hosting someone."

"Someone important enough that Daniel Cross nearly had a stroke when he thought we might offend them," Brandon added quietly.

Vivian's eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and ambition. "We need to find out who it is."