The Broke Husband’s Billion-Dollar Name

The Savior's Tale

She looked stunning, her crimson gown catching the light perfectly, her dark hair styled in elegant waves. Simon stood beside her in an expensive suit, his posture confident, proprietary. 

They paused at the entrance, and James could see Sophia's eyes sweeping the room, taking in the gathered elite, the opulent decorations and the promise of everything she'd been denied.

The crowd around Sophia grew with each passing moment, drawn by the magnetism of celebrity and the promise of insider knowledge. 

"You actually saved Marcus Sterling's daughter?" A woman in sapphire silk clutched Sophia's arm, her eyes wide with amazement. "My God, Sophia, that's incredible!"

Sophia smiled with practiced humility, though her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "I wouldn't say I saved her alone. Simon was instrumental—he's the one who secured the rare medicinal herb that made her recovery possible."

"A medicinal herb?" Another voice joined in, this one belonging to a man with steel-gray hair and a Rolex. "What kind of herb could cure what dozens of specialists couldn't?"

Simon stepped forward smoothly, his hand finding the small of Sophia's back in a gesture that spoke of intimacy and partnership. "A thousand-year-old ginseng root. Incredibly rare, almost impossible to acquire. But when we heard about Elena's condition, we knew we had to try."

Gasps rippled through the growing circle of listeners. A woman in black lace pressed her hand to her chest dramatically. "A thousand-year-old ginseng? Those are practically mythical! The cost alone must have been—"

"Some things are more important than money," Simon said with precisely calibrated nobility. "A young woman's life was at stake. How could we not help?"

"That's so generous," someone breathed, and others murmured agreement, their voices blending into a chorus of admiration that wrapped around Sophia like a warm blanket.

Victoria Chen pushed through the crowd, her emerald gown rustling. "Sophia, darling, I heard rumors, but I had to hear it from you directly. Is it true? Did your gift really cure Elena Sterling?"

"The doctors said it was remarkable," Sophia said, her voice carrying just the right note of modest pride. "One day she was bedridden, barely clinging to life, and after receiving our herb, she recovered completely. Marcus was overwhelmed with gratitude."

"I can only imagine," Victoria said, her eyes sharp with calculation behind the friendly smile. "Marcus Sterling doesn't forget debts. Especially one this significant."

A younger woman, probably mid-twenties with an eager expression, leaned in. "Is it true what they're saying? About the Aurora Project?"

Sophia's smile widened just a fraction. "Well, I don't want to presume anything, but there have been discussions. Marcus mentioned that STERLING FILM COMPANY is developing something extraordinary, and he suggested I might be perfect for the lead role."

The reaction was immediate and explosive. The crowd pressed closer, voices overlapping in excitement.

"The Aurora Project! I heard the budget is over a hundred million!"

"Yeah, and they plan to release it worldwide, people are already saying it could win major awards.”

"With Marcus Sterling's backing, you'll be unstoppable!"

"This could be the comeback of the decade!"

Sophia soaked it all in, her confidence rebuilding with each compliment, each envious glance, each breathless compliment. This was what she'd been missing since the accident—the validation, the recognition, the acknowledgment of her worth. Not the quiet, suffocating concern James had offered, but this—the admiration of her peers, the promise of her rightful place at the top.

"You're destined to be a first-tier star again," declared Richard Zhao, the film producer whose opinion carried weight in these circles. "With Marcus's resources behind you, there's no limit to what you can achieve. Endorsements, magazine covers, international projects, everything."

"Marcus Sterling doesn't just open doors," added Margaret Yang, the entertainment columnist. "He builds entirely new hallways. If he's decided to support you, Sophia, you've basically won the lottery."

Simon squeezed Sophia's waist gently, his expression the picture of a proud fiancé. "She deserves every bit of success coming her way. She's worked so hard to come back from the accident, to rebuild her career. This is just the beginning."

"And you two make such a beautiful couple," Victoria gushed. "The Alexander family and Sophia Carver, it's like a fairytale romance."

Sophia felt something warm and triumphant bloom in her chest. Yes, exactly. This was a fairytale: the successful actress and the wealthy heir, reunited after tragedy, saving lives and building empires together. This was the narrative that made sense, that fit the world she belonged to.

Not whatever sad, small story she'd been living with James. The husband who baked birthday cakes and waited in restaurants and offered nothing but devotion. What good was devotion without power? What use was love without the ability to elevate her back to where she belonged?

"Have you set a wedding date?" someone asked, and the crowd leaned in eagerly for this new morsel of gossip.

Simon's smile was smooth. "Soon. Very soon. We don't want to wait any longer than necessary."

More congratulations, more compliments. Sophia accepted them all, her smile growing more genuine with each word. After the humiliation outside—her mother dragged away like common trash, that woman revealing herself to be Elena Sterling, she'd felt her world crumbling. But now, here, surrounded by admiration and promises of success, she felt vindicated.

She'd made the right choice. Divorcing James, choosing Simon, positioning herself as Elena's savior, all of it was paying off exactly as it should.

"Shall we make our way further in?" Simon suggested, gesturing toward the front of the hall. "I'm sure Marcus will want to greet us personally."

"Of course, of course," the crowd parted, still murmuring amongst themselves, already spreading the story to others who hadn't heard.

Sophia moved through the banquet hall on Simon's arm, feeling like royalty processing through adoring subjects. People turned to look, whispered her name, smiled with admiration or envy. This was where she belonged. This was her world.

They reached the front of the hall, where the main table sat elevated on its dais, and Sophia's gaze swept across it, already imagining herself seated there beside Marcus Sterling and his daughter, accepting their gratitude and—

She froze.

James sat at the main table, casually eating a pastry, looking completely at ease in the place of highest honor.

The shock hit her like cold water. What was he doing there? How had he—