The Broke Husband’s Billion-Dollar Name

The Public Humiliation

Beside her, Simon's entire body went rigid. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, his voice tight with disbelief and rising anger.

Sophia's earlier confidence wavered, confusion and fury warring in her chest. James, her pathetic ex-husband who had nothing, who was nothing, sat at Marcus Sterling's main table as if he belonged there.

The sight made no sense. It violated everything she understood about how the world worked.

Simon's hand tightened on her waist, and when she glanced at his face, she saw his jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with hatred barely contained beneath a veneer of composure.

"Come on," Simon said through gritted teeth. "Let's go remind that parasite exactly where he belongs.”

Simon's grip on Sophia's waist tightened as they approached the main table, his polished smile replaced by something more predatory. Several guests turned to watch their progress, sensing drama in the way Simon's shoulders squared and Sophia's face flushed with barely contained anger.

James continued eating his pastry, seemingly oblivious to their approach, though his relaxed posture suggested awareness rather than ignorance.

"Well, well," Simon's voice rang out, pitched to carry to the nearby tables. "Look who's made himself comfortable at the place of honor."

Heads turned, conversations paused. The string quartet played on, but the murmur of voices dropped as attention shifted toward the unfolding scene.

James set down his pastry and looked up calmly. "Simon, Sophia."

"Don't act so casual," Sophia snapped, her earlier confidence transforming into righteous indignation. "What are you doing here? At the main table, no less?"

Simon laughed, the sound deliberately loud and mocking. "Isn't it obvious? Our friend James here thinks he's important because he's managed to seduce some lobby manager at this hotel. Probably promised her things he can't deliver, the way he always does."

A woman at a nearby table whispered something to her companion, both of them glancing at James with renewed interest and judgment.

"That's how men like him operate," Simon continued, warming to his performance. He gestured broadly, addressing not just James but the growing audience around them. "They latch onto women with actual value, actual power, and try to ride their coattails to places they don't belong."

"You're making assumptions," James said evenly.

"Am I?" Simon's eyebrows rose in exaggerated surprise. "Then please, enlighten us. How exactly does a man with no job, no connections, no value of his own end up sitting at Marcus Sterling's main table?"

"Elena asked me to sit here."

The silence that followed was broken by Simon's barking laugh. "Elena? You mean Elena Sterling?" He looked around at the watching guests, his expression incredulous. "Did you all hear that? He's claiming Elena Sterling, one of the most powerful businesswomen in the city, personally invited him to sit at her table."

"That's a ridiculous lie," Sophia added, her voice shrill with anger. "James, you've sunk to new lows. Making up stories about knowing Elena Sterling?"

"I'm not lying."

"Of course you are," Simon scoffed. "That's what parasites do—they lie, they manipulate, they worm their way into places they don't belong." He turned to address the crowd more directly. "Since he's being so modest, let me share some truth with everyone here. This man is Sophia's ex-husband."

Gasps rippled through the nearby guests. The whispers grew louder, more urgent.

"That's right," Simon continued, clearly enjoying himself now. "For three years, this man lived off Sophia's family like the parasite he is. Never worked a day, never contributed anything meaningful. Just sat at home spending her money while she rebuilt her career."

"That's not—" James started, but Simon spoke over him.

"And even now, after she had the good sense to divorce him, he shows up here to cause trouble. To embarrass her on what should be a triumphant night. He probably heard about her success in helping Elena Sterling and couldn't stand to see her happy."

The murmurs around them grew more condemning. James could hear the whispered judgments spreading like wildfire through the banquet hall.

"Shameless."

"What kind of man does that?"

"Living off a woman for three years?"

"And now he's bothering her again?"

A man in a charcoal suit shook his head in disgust. "There are men who build themselves up, and then there are men who tear successful women down out of jealousy. Disgusting."

"Exactly," Sophia said, her voice gaining strength from the crowd's support. "He's always been jealous of my success, of my connections. When I was recovering from my accident, he acted supportive, but really he was just cementing his position as a dependent."

"And when you didn't need him anymore," Simon added smoothly, "he couldn't handle it. So he shows up here, claiming connections he doesn't have, trying to embarrass you in front of the very people who could elevate your career."

James's jaw tightened, but his voice remained calm. "I haven't done anything to Sophia."

"No?" Simon's smile turned cruel. "Then explain why you had your little lobby manager girlfriend throw Sophia's mother out of the hotel earlier tonight. What was that if not deliberate humiliation?"

The crowd's reaction intensified. A woman gasped audibly. "He did what?"

"Threw her mother out," Sophia confirmed, her eyes bright with angry tears that might have been real or might have been calculated. "My mother came here tonight to support me, to celebrate with me, and James had her forcibly removed by security guards. All to spite me."

"That's cruel," someone muttered.

"Petty."

"Vindictive."

Simon was clearly enjoying the way public opinion turned decisively against James. He stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly so only those at the nearest tables could hear, but still loud enough to ensure an audience.

"You know what the saddest part is?" Simon said, his tone dripping with false sympathy. "He actually thought marrying Sophia meant something. That being associated with her gave him worth. But the truth is, he was always just a temporary inconvenience. A mistake she corrected."

James's hands remained relaxed on the table, but something in his eyes shifted—a coldness that hadn't been there before.

Simon noticed and smiled wider. He leaned in close, his lips nearly touching James's ear, his voice dropping to a whisper that only James could hear.