
Wife's Raging Revenge Plan
Chapter 2
Three years. Three years since I fled Seattle in humiliation, and now I stood in the penthouse ballroom of the Fairmont Olympic Hotel, watching the city's elite celebrate my twenty-sixth birthday. The irony wasn't lost on me—the same people who had witnessed my destruction were now raising champagne flutes in my honor.
I smoothed the midnight blue silk of my Valentino gown, feeling the familiar weight of diamonds at my throat. Not my grandmother's pearls this time, but a stunning sapphire necklace that Kai had chosen for me in Paris. Everything about me had changed—my confidence, my perspective, even the way I carried myself. The broken girl who had run from this ballroom three years ago was gone, replaced by a woman who had learned her own worth.
"You look radiant, darling." Diana Chen appeared at my side, her smile genuine and warm. "I'm so glad you decided to come back."
"So am I." The words surprised me with their truth. I had been terrified about returning to Seattle, but standing here now, surrounded by the soft glow of candles and the gentle hum of sophisticated conversation, I felt only peace.
The French doors opened to reveal the Seattle skyline, twinkling like scattered diamonds against the night sky. I had forgotten how beautiful this city could be when viewed from the right perspective. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Elliott Bay stretched endlessly into darkness, a reminder of all the possibilities that lay beyond these walls.
"Lila." Marcus, my older brother, joined us, his protective instincts still sharp after all these years. "Are you sure you're ready for this? Half of Seattle society is here tonight."
I touched my collarbone briefly, then caught myself. Old habits. "I'm not the same person who left, Marcus. I've learned to stand on my own."
He studied my face, searching for cracks in my composure. Finding none, he nodded slowly. "Good. Because—"
The conversation died as a ripple of whispers swept through the crowd. Heads turned toward the entrance, and I felt my stomach clench with familiar dread before I even looked. There, framed in the doorway like actors making their grand entrance, stood Jasper Sullivan and Elyse Howard.
Elyse was visibly pregnant now, six months along if the gossip was accurate, her simple black maternity dress a stark contrast to the designer gowns surrounding her. She clung to Jasper's arm with both hands, her knuckles white against his navy suit jacket. Her eyes darted nervously around the room, clearly overwhelmed by the opulence and the barely concealed stares of Seattle's elite.
But it was Jasper who captured my attention, and I hated myself for it. He looked older, more serious, the boyish charm I had once found so appealing replaced by something harder. His dark hair was shorter now, touched with silver at the temples that made him look distinguished rather than young. When his gaze found mine across the crowded room, I saw something flicker in his expression—surprise, perhaps, or recognition of just how much I had changed.
"They weren't invited," Diana hissed under her breath, her social hostess instincts clearly offended.
"It's fine." I kept my voice steady, though my heart hammered against my ribs. "They have every right to be here."
That wasn't entirely true, but I wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me rattled. Not again. I watched as Jasper guided Elyse through the crowd, his hand at the small of her back in a gesture that should have been protective but somehow looked perfunctory. He nodded politely to the guests who greeted them, but his attention kept drifting back to me.
Elyse noticed. Her grip on his arm tightened, and she whispered something urgent in his ear. Whatever she said made him frown, but he didn't look away from me.
The orchestra began playing a soft jazz number, and couples drifted toward the small dance floor. I accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, using the moment to compose myself. Three years of healing, of learning to trust again, of building a new life—I wouldn't let one night undo all of that progress.
"Lila."
I turned to find Jasper approaching, having somehow crossed the room without Elyse. She stood near the entrance, one hand pressed protectively over her rounded belly, watching us with undisguised anxiety.
"Jasper." I kept my tone neutral, polite. The same voice I might use with any acquaintance.
He stopped just close enough that our conversation would remain private, but far enough away that no one could accuse us of impropriety. "You look... incredible. Different."
"Three years will do that to a person."
Something painful crossed his features. "I heard you've been traveling. Paris, London..."
"Among other places." I sipped my champagne, studying his face. The guilt was written there plainly, along with something else I didn't want to identify. "Congratulations on your marriage. And the baby."
His jaw tightened. "Lila, I—"
"Jasper!" Elyse's voice cut through the gentle murmur of conversation as she hurried toward us, slightly breathless. "There you are. I was looking for you."
She inserted herself between us with the determination of someone fighting for territory, her hand immediately finding Jasper's arm again. Up close, I could see the exhaustion in her face, the way pregnancy had softened her features but sharpened her desperation.
"Mrs. Sullivan." I inclined my head politely. "You look well."
The formal address made her flinch slightly. We both knew she would never truly belong in this world, no matter what ring she wore.
Jasper reached into his jacket pocket, withdrawing a small velvet box. "I wanted to give you something. A birthday gift."
He opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond necklace, the stones catching the light and throwing rainbows across the velvet lining. It was beautiful, expensive, and completely inappropriate.
"Jasper," I began, but Elyse's sharp intake of breath stopped me.
"That's my necklace!" Her voice carried across the immediate area, drawing curious stares from nearby guests. "You bought that for me last week. You said it was for our anniversary!"
The color drained from Jasper's face as he realized his mistake. Around us, conversations faltered as people began to notice the drama unfolding. I felt that familiar sensation of being on display, but this time I wasn't the one being humiliated.
"Elyse," Jasper said quietly, his voice tight with embarrassment. "Lower your voice."
"No!" She was beyond caring about social niceties now, her pregnancy hormones and insecurity combining into a volatile mixture. "That was supposed to be mine! You can't just give away my jewelry!"
The whispers started immediately, spreading through the crowd like wildfire. I stood perfectly still, watching as Jasper's attempt at a romantic gesture crumbled into public spectacle. The irony was almost poetic—three years ago, he had humiliated me in front of these same people. Now his own thoughtlessness was providing them with fresh entertainment.
"I think," I said quietly, my voice carrying just enough to be heard by those closest to us, "that necklace belongs with its intended recipient."
I turned and walked away, leaving Jasper standing there with his expensive mistake and his pregnant wife's accusations ringing in the air behind me.
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