My Best Friend Is Pregnant With My Husband’s Baby, But The Dna Test Just Proved It Actually Belongs To His Father. I’m About To Reveal This At The Anniversary Gala. Should I Record Their Faces?
The Anniversary Scandal
After the call, I looked at the sunlight outside the window. I used to believe love was everything. I had willingly dimmed my own light to be Alexander’s shadow. But now, that innocent Sophia was shattered, just like the bone in her leg. From now on, I would make everyone understand clearly the price of messing with the daughter of the head of the Commission.
“Miss Sophia, are you sure about this?” Lucas asked, standing by the door of the walk-in closet, his brow furrowed.
I was adjusting my earrings in front of the full-length mirror. The woman in the reflection wore a deep red gown, her red lips as vivid as blood. The cast on my right leg was gone, replaced by a finely crafted metal brace that peaked out from the slit in my dress.
“Of course.” I turned to Lucas. “The Blackwoods are having their anniversary party. How could I, the hostess, be absent?”
Lucas opened his mouth to say something but closed it. For two weeks since my return, I had outwardly reconciled with Alexander. But behind the scenes, through my father’s connections, I had acquired 3% of Blackwood Construction’s shares and contacted two smaller shareholders willing to sell.
The phone vibrated. A message from my father: “Matthew Reed has arrived in New York. He will attend the party tonight as a guest, bringing what you need.”
A corner of my mouth turned up. Matthew Reed, the son of an old friend of my father’s and a financial genius trained on Wall Street. He was the man in charge of the Commission’s legal investments. With his help, my plan would take flight.
“Miss Sophia, the car is ready.” Lucas handed me a silver USB drive. “The video you requested has been processed.”
I slipped the USB drive into my clutch. The cool metal glinted under the lights, just like my mood at that moment.
The anniversary party for the founding of Blackwood Construction, which was also our wedding anniversary, was held at the Plaza Hotel. The moment I entered the ballroom on Alexander’s arm, hundreds of eyes turned to me. Curiosity, surprise, and mostly a morbid anticipation, as if I were a circus act. After all, the gossip that a tycoon’s daughter-in-law had caught her husband cheating with her best friend had spread like wildfire through high society.
“Sophia, you look stunning tonight,” Alexander whispered in my ear. His warm breath on my neck made me sick.
I suppressed my disgust and smiled sweetly. “It’s an important night. I can’t embarrass you.”
Alexander breathed a sigh of relief. The sweet, understanding attitude I had shown him for the past two weeks, and even the fact that I had convinced my father to forgive him, had surely convinced him I had forgotten everything. What a fool.
My in-laws approached, their faces plastered with forced smiles. After discovering my true identity, this social climbing couple’s attitude had done a 180.
“My dear, is your leg feeling better? Alexander has been so childish. We are so grateful for your understanding,” my father-in-law said, rubbing his hands.
I responded with a smile and scanned the room. I immediately spotted Clara standing by a pyramid of champagne glasses. She wore a white lace dress that made her look like a cheap wedding cake. She was giving me a look full of resentment.
“I’m just going to see an old friend.” I released Alexander’s arm and, leaning on my cane, made my way to Clara. Her face paled and she instinctively took a step back.
“Clara, long time no see.” My voice was neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for the few people around to hear. “White suits you. You look just like that ghost you played in the college play.”
A few people around us couldn’t help but chuckle. Clara’s face went from white to crimson. “Sophia, don’t be so arrogant. Alexander is only with you because he’s afraid of your father.”
“Shh.” I placed a finger on her lips. “On such an important day, let’s not say things that will ruin the mood.”
I leaned close to her ear and whispered in a voice only she could hear: “There’s a fun show later. Try to keep your composure.”
Before she could respond, I turned elegantly and came face to face with Matthew Reed, who had just arrived. He wore a perfectly tailored navy blue suit, and his eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses were as sharp as an eagle’s.
“Miss Moretti, I’ve heard so much about you.” He gently kissed the back of my hand.
“The Don is very proud of you, Mr. Reed.” I smiled. “After the party, do you have time to talk?”
“It would be an honor.” We exchanged a silent promise and parted ways.
The party began, and my father-in-law went on stage to boast about Blackwood Construction’s achievements, not mentioning the $5 million hole in their funds. I, sitting at the head table, played the part of the perfect wife, maintaining a dignified smile and occasionally adjusting my husband’s tie.
“Finally, I want to thank my daughter-in-law, Sophia, for her understanding and generosity.” My father-in-law suddenly mentioned me. “Everyone makes mistakes when they’re young. What matters is that the family stays united. And now, a toast to this beautiful couple!”
Everyone raised their glasses. I lowered my head to hide the disgust in my eyes. When I looked up again, I was wearing a loving smile.
Alexander moved to take my hand. “Sophia, I’ll spend my whole life making it up to you.”
“You don’t need a lifetime,” I said softly. “You can start now.”
Leaving him with a puzzled look, I leaned on my cane and slowly walked onto the stage, taking the microphone from the host. “I thank you all for coming to our party despite your busy schedules.” My voice was clear and resonant. “As a wife of this family, I’ve prepared a special gift.”
I signaled for the lights. The room dimmed and a large screen slowly descended from the ceiling. Alexander’s face went rigid as if he had a bad premonition.
“No, Sophia! Please!” He rushed the stage to stop me, but Lucas, who appeared suddenly behind him, gripped his shoulders with an iron hold.
“Honey, just watch the show.” I pressed the button on the remote.
On the high-definition screen, the clear image of Alexander and Clara rolling around in my bed appeared, complete with explicit audio. In the bottom right corner, a timestamp was visible. It was from when I was in the hospital with a broken leg. They couldn’t even last three days.
The room erupted. Clara screamed and ran for the exit but was blocked by bodyguards. My father-in-law was livid, and my mother-in-law fainted.
“And that’s just the beginning.” I switched the screen.
Bank statements and footage from casino security cameras appeared. “My husband embezzled $5 million from company funds to gamble in Atlantic City. Because of this, the Hudson Yards project has stalled, leaving hundreds of families displaced and on the streets.”
Finally, I played a recording of a phone call between Alexander and a thug hired for the evictions: “I don’t care if someone dies. Just clear that place out by tomorrow.”
A deafening silence fell over the room. I walked towards Alexander, who was now a crumpled mess. With each step: “In our three years of marriage, I brought you seven major projects and my designs won awards that raised Blackwood Construction stock by 30%.” My voice was soft but as sharp as a knife. “And in return, you gave me betrayal, violence, and humiliation.”
Alexander’s legs gave out and he collapsed to his knees. “Sophia, I was wrong, but you forgive me, right?”
I suddenly raised my voice, facing the stunned guests: “Because I am a wife who loves you so much!”
The room filled with whispers again. My father-in-law, as if finding a lifeline, rushed on stage and snatched the microphone from me. “A misunderstanding! It’s all a misunderstanding! As you can see, my daughter-in-law has already forgiven Alexander and now… please enjoy the party!”
I elegantly stepped off the stage and, passing through a forest of complex gazes, made my way to the corner where Matthew was. He offered me a glass of champagne, his eyes behind his glasses glinting with admiration.
“A masterful performance.”
“It’s just the beginning.” I took a sip of champagne. “Did you bring the documents?”
Matthew pulled a folder from his briefcase: the complete ownership structure of Blackwood Construction and the real financial statements for the last three years. “Much more interesting than the public reports.”
I opened the file; my eyes widened. Blackwood Construction’s real debt was more than three times what was declared, and huge sums of money had disappeared through shell companies. “This is enough for a short sale.”
“More than enough,” Matthew smiled. “I’ve already contacted three specialized funds. They’re just waiting for your signal.”
