The Billionaire Husband They Humiliated

Chapter 009

Christopher Hartnett still had no idea what he'd done wrong.

One day, his money and business interests had been taken away. Someone in the Thornton family had told him he'd offended a person he couldn't afford to cross, but nobody would say who.

He'd gone over every conversation he could remember. He had never dared to pick a fight with the company's senior executives. Who could he possibly have upset?

Now Ruby Pugh was calling him in front of a roomful of people.

“Christopher,” she said gently, “do you remember the Elysian Slingback heels you gave me? Do you think you could get another pair?”

Christopher closed his eyes. Shoes were the last thing he wanted to discuss. Since losing his fortune, he'd barely been able to cover his own expenses.

“Ruby,” he said, “you mean the fake pair I gave you?”

“Fake?”

Ruby and Vicky Ritchson looked down at the shoes on Ruby's feet.

There was nothing fake about them. Anyone familiar with the design could see they were genuine.

Ruby ended the call, bewildered.

If Christopher hadn't given her the real pair, who had?

The Elysian Slingback heels were extraordinarily rare. A stranger wouldn't simply send a gift of that value. Whoever had done it must have known her—and had the kind of influence money alone couldn't buy.

Then a memory surfaced.

Isaac said he'd buy me the real shoes.

She looked toward the back of the hall.

Isaac was sitting alone, eating his way through a plate of food. Most of the guests had avoided his table, treating him like someone who didn't belong at the celebration.

Ruby dismissed the thought.

Isaac? There's no way.

A little later, with most of his food gone, Isaac wiped his mouth and glanced toward Vicky. Something on her wrist caught his eye.

A bracelet.

At first glance it was an expensive piece of jewelry. But the workmanship told a different story. The shape, the metal, the signs of age—this was no modern accessory. It looked ancient.

Isaac had been fascinated by antiques since childhood. When he was younger, he'd spent time studying under a respected appraiser, learning to recognize pieces that most people overlooked.

If he was right, the bracelet on Vicky's wrist was thousands of years old. Its value could easily run into the millions.

“Everyone, may I have your attention?”

The Pugh patriarch had arrived at the head table, supported by an attendant and beaming with pride.

“Ruby, my dear,” he said, “tell everyone how you managed to secure that agreement with Aether Group. We'd all love to learn from your success.”

Ruby gave an awkward smile.

“I'm not sure there's much to tell. I went to their office and said I wanted to discuss a partnership. They agreed almost immediately. I didn't even meet the president.”

A wave of surprised murmurs spread across the room.

“That's it?”

“We spent years trying to get them to talk to us.”

“I thought she'd pulled off some brilliant negotiation.”

“Sounds more like she got lucky.”

Jordan Pugh seized his chance.

“Grandpa, that proves I deserve some of the credit,” he announced. “I went to Aether first. They threw me out, sure, but maybe they had second thoughts after seeing how serious we were. By the time Ruby arrived, they were ready to sign with anyone.”

Everyone understood what he was doing: trying to take credit for Ruby's success.

The patriarch, however, nodded thoughtfully. Jordan had always been his favorite.

“You may have a point,” he said. “Without Jordan laying the groundwork, we might never have secured the deal. He deserves recognition, too.”

Jordan brightened.

“Of course, Grandpa. I only want what's best for our family. And now that we've established a relationship with Aether, there's another opportunity. I hear Sara Davis is trying to sign with them. I could go back, use my contacts, and negotiate something that earns us even more.”

“Excellent,” his grandfather said. “I'll leave it to you, Jordan.”

He smiled proudly. “Always thinking of the family. That's why I know I can count on you.”

Ruby and her mother exchanged unhappy looks. Ruby had secured the agreement, yet Jordan was already stealing the spotlight. If he somehow managed to bring in another deal, the family would act as though the entire celebration had been his achievement.

Neither woman dared challenge the patriarch openly.

Jordan, meanwhile, was having the time of his life.

“Everyone, enjoy yourselves!” he called. “Tonight's on me. Eat, drink, have as much as you want!”

He waved toward the staff.

“Bring out your best wine. We're celebrating properly tonight.”

Two servers approached. “Would you like to see the wine list, sir?”

“No need,” Jordan said grandly. “Bring me the most expensive bottles you have. One for every table.”

Soon a line of servers entered the hall, each carrying a bottle. Jordan raised his glass.

“I want everybody having fun! If anyone leaves sober, I'll be disappointed!”

His relatives laughed and toasted him. With his standing in the family rising, nobody wanted to miss a chance to win his favor.

Hours passed. Empty bottles accumulated, and Jordan became increasingly unsteady on his feet.

Finally, he called for a server.

“Here. Put it all on my card.”

He took out a sleek, gleaming card and deliberately held it where Vicky could see.

Several guests gasped.

It was the Solitaire Card from Vanderbilt Private Bank, an exclusive card reserved for clients with substantial assets. Even its lower tiers required high balances. The Solitaire was associated with multimillion-dollar accounts.

Jordan had only recently obtained it. Most of his money was tied up in investments, but the card looked impressive, and that was what mattered tonight.

Vicky glanced at it more than once. Although she came from a wealthy family, much of the Ritchsons' money was controlled by her father. Even she couldn't buy the Elysian Slingback heels without asking him for help.

Jordan caught her looking and smiled wider.

“Actually,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “there's one table I'm not paying for.”

He pointed toward Isaac.

“That one. They can settle their own bill.”

The people at the table were mostly relatives with little standing in the family. Isaac's presence made them an easy target.

“You didn't think I was going to pay for you, did you?” Jordan called. “You were rude to Miss Ritchson, and you acted like you owned the place. You're nobody, Isaac. I'm only saying what everyone else is thinking.”

Then he turned back to Vicky, all charm.

“And Miss Ritchson, about those shoes—don't worry. I know plenty of influential people. I'll find a way to get you a pair.”

“That's very kind of you, Jordan,” Vicky replied with a polite smile.

Isaac nearly laughed. Jordan had contacts, certainly, but none with the influence needed to obtain shoes that rare. When it came to showing off, though, he was in a league of his own.

The server took the Solitaire Card away.

A few minutes later, two staff members returned and stopped behind Jordan.

“Excuse me, sir,” one said with a bow. “I'm afraid your card has been declined. There aren't sufficient funds.”

Jordan turned sharply.

“Don't be ridiculous! There are millions on that card.”

“Yes, sir. The available balance is approximately three million dollars. But tonight's bill comes to roughly six million.”

Isaac covered his mouth to hide a grin.

Jordan had ordered the most expensive wine in the building, at around a hundred and fifty thousand dollars a bottle, then demanded one for every table. What did he expect?

“Six million?” Jordan shouted. “There are barely a couple hundred people here! Have you lost your minds? Get your manager.”

The servers exchanged helpless looks and went to fetch him.

A young manager arrived, immaculately dressed in an expensive suit.

“You think you can rip me off?” Jordan demanded. “One phone call to the authorities and this place will be shut down. You'd better think carefully about what you're doing.”

The manager remained calm.

“Sir, you ordered our most expensive wine. It's produced in extremely limited quantities. You requested a large number of bottles. In fact, the full retail total would be higher than the amount we've charged you.”

“Bullshit!” Jordan grabbed an empty bottle and smashed it on the floor. “I asked for wine. I didn't tell you to bring something that expensive. You're trying to cheat me!”

The manager had dealt with plenty of wealthy clients. He'd never seen someone make such a spectacular display of spending money he didn't have.

“Sir,” he said evenly, “you specifically asked for the most expensive bottles. Everyone here heard you. The wine and its price can be verified. Please lower your voice.”

Heavy footsteps sounded from the entrance.

Dozens of broad-shouldered men came into the hall. Many wore sleeveless shirts that revealed heavily tattooed arms.

The atmosphere changed at once.

The Velvet House was the most exclusive hotel in Oakridge City, and its owner had a reputation for having once operated on the wrong side of the law. Few people dared cause trouble here. The hotel's security team had made sure of that for years.

Now the men were heading straight for Jordan.