SABRINA
You might think I'm crazy, but I simply refuse to accept the current state of affairs. Despite my husband dropping the bombshell of divorce just two days ago, I've carried on with our meticulously planned week as though nothing has changed. Today marks the sixth anniversary of MK Chemicals, Mykel's first venture outside of his family's automobile production business. As his devoted wife, it's crucial for me to stand by his side and show unwavering support on this momentous occasion.
Cradling the cold coffee mug in my hands, I found myself fixated on the wall clock once again, releasing an exasperated groan. We were already an hour past the scheduled opening time, and there was no sign of Mykel. Could he have forgotten to come pick me up? It was imperative that we arrived together to avoid any unnecessary speculation from the ever-watchful press.
After waiting for thirty agonizing minutes, I finally gave up on the hope of Mykel's arrival. Carefully placing the mug back on the table, I grabbed my clutch, gathered the trailing fabric of my dress, and made my way out of the bedroom. Andrew, my dedicated personal security detail assigned by Mykel to accompany me wherever I went, promptly fell into step beside me.
"It appears that Mykel is caught in heavy traffic, so you'll have to drive me to the venue. I'll meet him there," I informed Andrew, frustration evident in my voice. My attempts to reach Mykel by phone had been in vain ever since he dropped the divorce bombshell.
Silently, Andrew led me to the car, holding the door open as I stepped inside before closing it gently behind me. He quickly circled around the vehicle and settled behind the steering wheel, ready to take us to our destination.
****************
It took us an additional hour to reach the event venue. As I stepped out of the car, I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of questions from the paparazzi. The cameras clicked relentlessly, capturing my belated arrival.
"Mrs. Kalant!" one of the photographers yelled, trying to be heard over the commotion. "Why are you more than two hours late to an event hosted by your husband, and how is it that your husband arrived before you?"
Wait, did he just say Mykel was here?
From the moment I uttered the words "I do" to Mykel, I knew I was entering a world where every word, every action had to be carefully calculated. The lessons on restraint and diplomacy had been ingrained in me. "Think before you speak," they had told me. "Never give a response that could tarnish the reputation of the Kalant family," they had warned. "Present yourself as the victim rather than making your husband the victim," they had advised.
Clutching my purse a little too tightly, I forced a false smile onto my face. "My husband has meticulously planned this event for quite some time, so it's only natural that he would arrive punctually to ensure everything is in order, while I make myself look beautiful for him."
The crowd responded with a chuckle, seemingly amused by my dry humor. Eager to escape their prying eyes before another probing question could be fired my way, I hurriedly made my way into the building.
Inside the grandeur hall, I scanned the crowd, desperately searching for a glimpse of Mykel or his family, or anyone familiar. As my eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar faces, I leaned toward Andrew. "I need you to find Mykel," I whispered urgently.
He nodded sharply, understanding the gravity of the situation, and set off to locate him. Determined to maintain an appearance of composure and not reveal my anxiety, I smoothly blended into the crowd, pretending to be at ease. Spotting a passing waitress, I swiftly reached out and took a glass of champagne from her tray, hoping the familiar taste would bring some comfort amidst the chaos.
"Look who we have here," a voice that I would rather not confront tonight resounded behind me. Steeling myself, I took a deep breath before turning to face her. "The trophy wife," she sneered, her words dripping with disdain.
I chose to ignore her snide remark and addressed her coolly. "Barbara," I acknowledged, surprised to see her presence. The last I had heard of her was a day after my wedding, when rumors circulated that she had left the country, unable to bear witnessing my marriage to Mykel. If there ever was a person who embodied the term 'bitter ex,' she stood right in front of me.
"Are you sure Kel knows you're coming?" she taunted, her lips stretching into a malicious smirk. "He assured me on our way here that you wouldn't show up."
During our journey here? Did they arrive together? Suppressing my anger, I carefully masked my emotions. Did Mykel abandon me at home to attend his own event with his ex? "I wasn't feeling well this morning," I lied convincingly, not flinching. "So Mykel and I agreed that I would sit this one out. However, upon second thought, I decided to surprise him."
As I continued my tense exchange with Barbara, I noticed Andrew making his way through the crowd, a signal that he had located my husband. Gathering my wits, I decided to press on. "When did you return to New York?" I inquired, maintaining a façade of casual curiosity.
Barbara's smile widened, relishing the opportunity to flaunt her presence. "Last month. Didn't Kel inform you? He personally picked me up from the airport," she replied, a hint of triumph in her voice.
I shrugged, attempting to dismiss her words with indifference. "My husband and I have chosen not to discuss irrelevant matters," I retorted, striving to uphold an air of control.
A brief laugh escaped Barbara's lips. "Well, that's good to know," she remarked, gesturing with her impeccably manicured nails toward the bustling crowd. "In case you're searching for Kel, he's right up front."
"I don't require your assistance in finding my husband," I responded coolly, countering her feigned act of kindness. "Nevertheless, I appreciate the gesture," I added with a touch of insincerity. Andrew discreetly whispered in my ear, confirming that he had indeed located Mykel. With a nod of gratitude, I allowed him to lead the way, guiding me through the crowd towards the presence of my husband.
We made our way to the front row, and Andrew directed my attention to a full table occupied by Mykel, his brother Victor, his sister Emilie, his mother Katherine, and, to my dismay, Barbara. My heart sank at the sight of her presence among my loved ones.
Barbara wasted no time in making her presence known. "I would have asked them to arrange for an extra seat, but the table simply isn't wide enough to accommodate another person," she snidely remarked, gesturing toward a nearby table. "You might find some space over there."
I took a moment to assess the situation, my gaze sweeping across the table. With a composed demeanor, I replied, "Take a good look around, Barbara. You find yourself sitting amidst my family, surrounded by my family, right next to my husband. If anyone needs to make way and join another table, it's certainly not me."
A slow lift of her eyebrows indicated her amusement, as if she knew an untold joke. "You think I'm not family?" she chuckled, her voice dripping with condescension. "In fact, I'm more of a family member than you are right now, Sabrina." Leaning forward, she whispered, her words laced with a hint of menace, "We are aware of the divorce."
Out of reflex, I glanced at my husband who seemed rather nonchalant of the banter between me and Barbara continued to type away on his phone. “You told her?” I asked Mykel.
"Are you really surprised that he did?" Barbara interjected before Mykel had a chance to respond, her tone laced with sarcasm. Mykel remained tight-lipped, unwilling to provide any insight into the matter. "He also enlightened us about your pitiful behavior in light of the news," she added, her words dripping with scorn.
Victor, Mykel's brother, couldn't contain his amusement, his arms crossed as he alternated glances between Barbara and me, seemingly relishing the spectacle.
Barbara smacked her crimson lips together, leaning back in her seat with a predatory gleam in her eyes. She placed her hand on Mykel's, her gaze fixated on me. "I'll present you with two options," she muttered, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Option one, gather your belongings and leave this place, or option two, make your way to that other table and sit there, allowing the paparazzi to wonder why you're separated from your husband and his family. Which will it be?"
"I choose none," I declared firmly, taking a step closer to the table. If Mykel was not going to stand up for me, then I would defend myself. "And do you know why? Because I am well aware of how much this family dislikes unnecessary attention."
Barbara, with a devious glint in her eyes, lifted her wine glass, walked over to me and deliberately spilled its contents onto my dress. A collective gasp emanated from the onlookers. "Oh, I apologize sincerely," she taunted, extending her handkerchief towards me. "You can use this to wipe it off in the restroom, although I must warn you, the stain will likely remain. The wine is vintage, after all."
"Mykel!" I snapped, my anger seeping through my words. "Are you just going to sit there and allow her to insult me like this?" I could feel the gazes of the crowd turning toward us, but I no longer cared about their attention.
Finally tearing his gaze away from his phone, Mykel's jaw visibly clenched as he looked at me. His eyes briefly met mine before settling on the stain marring my dress, intensifying the tension in his expression. "Andrew," he called out, his voice tinged with restrained anger.
Andrew, my loyal personal security, immediately straightened his posture. "Yes, sir," he responded, ready to act upon Mykel's command.
"Take her home," Mykel ordered, his gaze fixed upon me with disdain. "She's gradually becoming a public disgrace."
Even Andrew appeared taken aback by Mykel's words, but he remained silent, gently guiding me by the forearm. "Come on, ma'am," he urged softly. "People are starting to stare."
I locked eyes with Mykel and the woman beside him, my fury bubbling within me. The audacity of that witch to wink at me! In a moment of impulsive retaliation, I swiftly seized a champagne flute from a passing waiter and emptied its contents onto her hair, the liquid cascading down, eliciting gasps and camera clicks.
Mykel sprang to his feet, poised to come to her defense, and I scoffed, challenging him with my gaze. "Are you truly going to defend her?" I questioned, my eyes daring him. "I dare you, Mykel. I'm certain the paparazzi are eager to capture such images."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration evident. Turning to Andrew, he instructed, "Just take her home."
"No need for that; I'm already on my way out," I retorted sharply, my disappointment palpable. Casting one last glare at them, I pivoted and left, regretting the moment I had stepped out of the comfort of my bed.
Aksara