My Husband Divorced Me To Marry His Mistress, Thinking He Owned My Family’s Multi-million Dollar Company. He Just Found Out He’s Actually An At-will Employee. Who Should Tell Him He’s About To Get Arrested At His Own Wedding?
The Wedding Invitation
Amid the chaos and Damian’s growing confusion, a thick cream-colored envelope landed on Eleanor’s desk at the corporate group’s headquarters, a place Damian rarely visited. Eleanor was sitting reviewing reports on her tablet. Her personal assistant handed her the envelope respectfully.,
It was the physical wedding invitation for Damian and Sylvia. The design was very luxurious, with gold ink and imported paper, exactly to Sylvia’s extravagant taste. Eleanor opened the invitation slowly with no expression of sadness on her face; instead, she smiled faintly—a smile that was hard to interpret.
The invitation listed the date and venue for the party to be held in two days. Eleanor picked up her pen and wrote a single word on the RSVP card: “Attending.”
Then she handed the card back to her assistant to be sent to Damian’s address. Eleanor knew her presence there would not be as a guest, but as the executioner who would end this long farce.
The Wedding Day
The day Damian and Sylvia had been waiting for finally arrived. Their wedding day, designed with incredible extravagance meant to be proof of their social status, now felt like a ticking time bomb to Damian. Since morning, Damian had been at the hotel.,
He hadn’t been able to sleep all night, harassed by collection messages from various vendors. The clothing boutique demanded the proof of transfer that never came, the jewelry store threatened to repossess their items, and the decorators were asking for the remaining payment before the event began that evening. Damian felt like he was in quicksand; the more he struggled, the deeper he sank.
He was constantly lying to everyone, saying the money was in the process of bank clearing and would arrive that afternoon. Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the hotel ballroom was one of frantic activity. Workers were setting up thousands of fresh flowers brought in from out of town.
The majestic crystal chandeliers were already hung, reflecting a dazzling golden light. A thick red carpet stretched from the entrance to the altar, designed to look like a fairy tale palace. Sylvia seemed very happy.
She was busy giving orders to the workers, asking for flowers in one corner to be changed or the lighting on one side to be dimmed. Sylvia had no idea about the storm swirling in her future husband’s mind. For Sylvia, today was the day she had won a landslide victory over Eleanor.
She would become the legitimate wife of a CEO and live surrounded by luxury. She was already imagining the envious faces of her friends when they saw the opulence of the party. Damian hid in one of the hotel rooms rented for the couple’s preparations.
He paced back and forth in the room, restless. He tried calling his mother again, hoping the old woman had changed her mind and would be willing to lend him her retirement savings to cover the hole opening up at his feet. But she didn’t answer.
Damian collapsed onto the sofa. He stared at the ceiling of the room, wondering how everything had turned into such chaos in such a short time. He remembered Eleanor’s face in the courthouse, a calm, expressionless face.
Suddenly, a bad premonition washed over him. Was Eleanor planning something? But Damian quickly dismissed the thought; in his opinion, Eleanor was too weak and foolish to do something so cruel.,
Damian convinced himself it was just a technical banking issue and that the next day everything would be back to normal. All he had to do was survive this night with his head held high.
Eleanor Prepares for Battle
In another, much quieter place, Eleanor was getting ready. She was at her family’s private estate, a serene and secluded place. There was no panic or fuss.
Eleanor sat in front of an antique teak dressing table. A trusted family makeup artist was applying a natural yet determined look to her face. Eleanor didn’t want to look overdone; she didn’t want to compete with the bride in terms of flashy makeup.
She wanted to present herself as she was: classy, elegant, and untouchable. Eleanor chose a long, deep black silk gown paired with a satin scarf of the same shade, fastened with a diamond brooch inherited from her grandmother. Her appearance exuded an aura of mourning and, at the same time, an intimidating strength.
Once ready, Eleanor walked to the living room. Mr. Hayes was waiting for her there. The middle-aged man was dressed in an impeccable formal suit.,
Mr. Hayes looked at Eleanor with a mixture of admiration and concern. He knew how much it had hurt Eleanor to be betrayed for years, and he also knew how difficult the step she was about to take that night would be. Mr. Hayes asked in a grave voice if Eleanor was sure she wanted to do this in public.
He offered other options, like letting the lawyers and police handle Damian without her having to attend the party. Mr. Hayes feared that Eleanor would be hurt seeing her ex-husband at the altar with another woman. Eleanor shook her head slowly while smiling faintly.
She adjusted the cuff of her sleeve and said in a very calm tone that the wound in her heart had dried up a long time ago. Her presence there was not to mourn her fate but to ensure that justice was served with her own hands. Eleanor wanted to see the exact moment Damian’s mask crumbled.
She wanted Damian to know that the woman he had always belittled was the same one who could destroy him in the blink of an eye. Hearing that response, Mr. Hayes nodded in understanding. He no longer objected.,
He offered his arm to Eleanor. They walked out to a sleek, gleaming black luxury sedan waiting in the driveway. The car’s engine purred softly, ready to take them to the battlefield.
