Chapter 7
Trina yanked her arm free, a smirk curling her lips. She tilted her chin–toward Cyril and said, “Mr. Banks, your guest‘ is right behind you. You really need to get your eyes checked if you can’t tell us apart.”
Lisa stepped forward, giving Truman a quick, knowing glance before turning to Cyril. “Since it’s Trina,” she said sweetly, “we might as well let her stay. After all, she’s donated blood to me countless times. The least we can do is show her some courtesy and let her look around.”
At first, Läsa was caught off guard by Trina and Truman showing up together. But then she reminded herself–Trina was a nobody now, divorced and broke. So, she thought there was nothing to worry about.
As for Truman, his being here had to be a coincidence. Why not let Trina stay? Let her see how far beneath me she is now, she thought. If anything, maybe she could even publicly humillate Trina and make Cyril despise her more.
The mention of blood donations hit a nerve, igniting the anger Trina had bottled up for three years. She had an overwhelming urge to strangle Lisa right there and then.
But then, her eyes landed on the necklace around Lisa’s neck–a cheap reject piece Trina had tossed aside ages ago. The anger faded, replaced by annusement. Lisa was strutting around, beting superior, while wearing garbage jewelry.
Thirty million–dollars, Trina (bought with a silent laugh. She’d played her cards right, pulling her own version of “rob the rich, help the poor with herself being the “poor” in this case.
With a small, amused smile, Trina said, “No need to be so generous. I’m here with Mr. Cross. No special respect necessary? And with that, she followed Truman into the ballroom, leaving Lisa dumbstruck.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. “Is that Clarissa’s signature bracelet on her wrist!”
“No way! That’s locked up in a vault. No one’s allowed to wear it.”
“And her bag–doesn’t that look like this year’s custom Chanel”
Lisa’s face turned stormy. “You’re all mistaken,” she spat “She can’t afford that kind of stuff. It’s gotta be fake!”
The crowd gasped. Then came the laughter, harsh and mocking. Wearing knockoffs to an event like this was social suicide.
Cyril’s expression grew even sormier. He knew those pieces were genuine, and not just that–they were priceless treasures money alone couldn’t buy. Though he had never mistreated Trina during their marriage, the implications of her wearing such rare items today sent his mind reeling.
He wondered if Trina had hooked up with Truman during her time away, and the involvement of a top–tier hacker added another layer of complexity to the situation.
Unable to make a scene in public, he swallowed his rage, but his icy demeanor had everyone around him taking a step back.
As the party began, Trina accompanied Truman, effortlessly mingling with the elite. When asked about Trina’s identity, Truman remained tight- lipped.
After deflecting another curious guest, he sighed. “What game are you playing. Trina Why not let me introduce you properly?”
Trina swirled her champagne, a sly smile spreading across her face. “The riffraff don’t need to know who I am. If my identity gets out, these social climbers will start pestering me when they can’t get to you. I’ve got my own life to live.”
Truman chuckled, affectionately ruffling her hair. “You little minx. Alright, Ill let you enjoy your anonymity a while longer.”
Their intimate interaction was like a knife to Cyril’s heart. He downed his drink, trying to dull the ache in his chest.
–
Liu, equally furious, refused to believe Trina could be connected to someone like Truuman. And Trina’s bracelet it had to be a knockoff from some market stall.
Convinced of this, Lisa’s mood improved. A plan formed in her mind. If Trina wanted to play games, shed show her how cruel she could be.
Lisa plastered on a fake smile and called out loudly, Trina, that bracelet is gorgeous! How come you weren’t wearing it when I saw you working at Clarissa’s shop the other day!”
The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Trina. She set down her glass, unruffled. “What are you implying?” she asked coolly.
“Oh,nothing.” Lisa said with faux innocence. “It’s just that some ladies were saying it’s Clarissa’s signature piece. But a mere shop girl couldn’t possibly borrow that.”
She added conspiratorially, “So I wondered where you got such a good fake. If it’s that convincing, I might get one to play with. It would be a shame to lose the 30–million–dollar set Cyril bought me.”
୦
