Cheated On Me? I Married a Tycoon

Ayla walked straight to the main marble bar.

She tapped her fingernails against the cold stone and ordered a bone-dry martini.

Ten minutes later, Axel strolled back into the ballroom from the staff entrance, adjusting his cuffs. He looked perfectly composed, immediately rejoining the circle of investors.

A minute after that, Kristal walked in through a different set of doors. Her lipstick was freshly applied, her hips swaying as she scanned the room.

Kristal's eyes locked onto Ayla standing alone at the bar.

A smug, victorious smirk spread across Kristal's face. She grabbed a glass of wine and walked directly toward Ayla.

Kristal stopped right next to her. She dramatically flipped her hair over her shoulder.

A heavy wave of sandalwood and crushed roses hit Ayla's face.

Ayla's eyes turned to ice, but her posture remained perfectly relaxed.

"These Silicon Valley dinners must be so incredibly boring for you," Kristal said, her voice loud enough to carry.

Kristal took a sip of her wine. "I mean, a woman who only knows how to shop couldn't possibly understand the AI infrastructure architecture Axel was just discussing."

Several wealthy wives and tech executives standing nearby stopped talking. They turned their heads, their eyes gleaming with morbid curiosity.

Ayla took a slow sip of her martini. The gin burned her throat.

"As the Director of Overseas Operations, did you skip the training on basic social etiquette?" Ayla asked, her voice flat and bored.

Kristal's smile twitched. Her face flushed with irritation. She took a step closer, invading Ayla's personal space.

Kristal leaned in and dropped her voice to a venomous whisper. "Axel loves a woman who can fight alongside him in the boardroom. Not a fake heiress who got thrown out by her own family like garbage."

To make sure she got a reaction, Kristal deliberately shifted her weight.

She slammed the heel of her stiletto down hard onto the delicate train of Ayla's custom black gown.

The sickening sound of expensive fabric ripping echoed near their feet.

Kristal let out a loud, theatrical gasp and threw her hands up, pretending to lose her balance and fall toward Ayla.

Ayla didn't flinch. She didn't step back to catch her.

Instead, Ayla's eyes narrowed into slits. Her wrist snapped forward with lethal precision.

She threw the entire glass of ice-cold martini directly into Kristal's perfectly contoured face.

The alcohol hit Kristal's eyes.

Kristal let out a blood-curdling, ear-piercing scream.

The entire ballroom went dead silent. The music seemed to stop. Hundreds of heads snapped toward the bar.

Kristal stumbled backward, clutching her face. The sticky alcohol dripped down her chin, staining the front of her red dress.

"You crazy bitch!" Kristal shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at Ayla.

The crowd parted violently as Axel shoved his way to the front, his face purple with rage.

He saw Kristal crying and shivering. A flash of genuine panic and heartbreak crossed his eyes.

Axel lunged forward and shoved Ayla hard in the chest.

Ayla stumbled backward, her lower back slamming brutally into the sharp edge of the marble bar. Pain exploded up her spine, but she didn't make a sound.

Axel ripped off his tuxedo jacket and wrapped it tenderly around Kristal's shoulders.

Then, he spun around to face Ayla.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" Axel roared, his voice booming across the silent ballroom. "Assaulting a company executive in public?!"

Axel pointed at the floor. "Apologize to her right now, or get the hell out of this venue."

Whispers broke out across the room. The elite crowd was openly mocking the disgraced, hysterical wife.

Ayla looked at Axel. She looked at the man who was willing to destroy his wife's dignity in front of the entire world just to protect his mistress.

The last invisible chain holding her to him shattered.

Ayla lifted her empty martini glass and slammed it down onto the marble counter.

The glass shattered into a dozen pieces. The sharp crack made several people jump.

Ayla stood up straight. She ignored the throbbing pain in her back. She looked around the room of staring faces, and then locked eyes with Axel.

"You two make me sick," Ayla said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the silence like a scalpel.

She didn't wait for his reaction. She turned around, gathered the ripped fabric of her dress in one hand, and walked out of the ballroom with her head held high.

The cold San Francisco wind hit her face as she pushed through the exit doors.

Ayla pulled out her phone. She blocked Axel's number, hailed a yellow cab, and disappeared into the night.