My Husband Slapped Me To Impress His Family At Their New $10m Mansion. He Didn’t Realize I Am The Ceo Who Signed The Check For This House. Now He Has 30 Minutes To Pack. Is This Enough Revenge?
The Party is Over
30 minutes. I gave them 30 minutes to continue enjoying their false wealth, the last 30 minutes of the play they had worked so hard to stage. During that time, I remained seated in my corner, silent as a shadow. The swelling on my cheek was beginning to show, throbbing with pain, but I no longer felt anything.
My full attention was on my wristwatch. The second hand moved forward, tick-tock, tick-tock, constant and cold like the steps of death approaching. The party continued, but the atmosphere was no longer the same after my family scene. People seemed a bit self-conscious. They kept laughing and toasting, but the curious glances and whispers did not cease to be directed towards me.
I had become a stain, an unpleasant black spot on the perfect picture the Hamilton family was trying to paint. Madeline, after gloating over having disciplined her impertinent daughter-in-law, put her mask of a gracious hostess back on. She strolled among the tables on Walter’s arm, smiling and chatting with important guests as if nothing had happened.
Ethan also quickly forgot his act of violence and returned to his role as the elegant young heir, the successful and talented commercial director. He moved through the room socializing, exchanging business cards, discussing future projects. They acted too well. They were too professional. Watching them, no one could have guessed that in just a few minutes all this glamour would vanish like smoke.
15 minutes passed. I looked out the window. The New York skyline was still brilliant, but I knew that somewhere in the city an order had been given. My assistant Leo, famous for his precision and efficiency, was surely mobilizing his team, preparing for an unexpected visit.
25 minutes. I stood up. My action immediately attracted the attention of some people. I didn’t head for the door or my room. I walked directly to the center of the hall where there was a microphone on a lectern. I took it. A soft hello from me echoed through the speakers, enough to make the entire noisy hall fall silent.
All eyes turned to me once more. Ethan and his family also turned, looking at me with surprise and irritation. What the hell is she going to do now? I could read in Madeline’s eyes. I scanned the room with my gaze, observing the unknown faces, the people who had witnessed my humiliation.
Then my gaze rested on my husband’s family. I looked directly into Ethan’s eyes.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I began, my voice no longer trembling with fear but clear, firm, and full of authority—a voice I didn’t even know I possessed. “I am Chloe, the daughter-in-law of the Hamilton family. First of all, I apologize for interrupting your lovely party, but I believe there are some truths that need to be clarified here and now.”
“Chloe, what the hell are you doing? Get down from there right now!” Ethan roared, his face red with anger and embarrassment.
He tried to come up to pull me down, but I raised a hand to stop him.
“Don’t be in such a hurry. Your play and your family’s play has lasted for a year now. Let me say the ending.”
I turned to the guests.
“You find yourselves in a very luxurious estate, don’t you? You are probably amazed by the wealth and success of the Hamilton family. But do you know something? All of this, from the house, the luxury cars, to the wine you are drinking, is all borrowed.”
The hall filled with murmurs.
“Liar! Are you insane?” Madeline shouted, but I didn’t give her a chance to continue.
“And the creditor, the person who generously lent them $10 million to build this castle of falsehood, is none other than myself.”
If my previous sentence had caused murmurs, this one prompted a deathly silence. People looked at me, then at the Hamilton family, completely confused.
“What are you saying?” Walter, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his voice trembling.
Just at that moment, the main door of the hall burst open. Everyone turned in unison, and the scene they witnessed left them all horrified. A group of men in impeccable black suits, looking extremely professional and with an overwhelming air, entered in a line. They moved quickly and with organization, like a special operations team on a mission.
At the head was Leo, my trusted assistant. He wore a perfectly tailored Italian suit, his face was cold, expressionless. Behind him, a team of a dozen people including lawyers, asset appraisers, and tall security personnel. Their sudden appearance with such an aura of power completely froze the party.
The music stopped, the laughter ceased; only gasps of astonishment and an atmosphere of extreme tension remained. The guests, businessmen and officials accustomed to luxury, were now stunned, looking at each other, not understanding what was happening.
“Excuse me, who are you people? Who allowed you to enter here like this?”
Walter, as the host, tried to regain his authority and stood in their way. But Leo didn’t even stop, didn’t even glance at him. He walked directly towards me, still at the lectern, and gave a 90° bow—a gesture of absolute respect.
“Madame President, I have arrived. Everything is ready according to your orders.”
