Chapter 3
The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed with dark circles under both eyes.
Ethan hadn't come back to the room last night.
Relief washed over me, but guilt followed close behind.
When I came downstairs, the staff had already set out breakfast.
Ethan sat at the dining table in a crisp suit, his expression completely neutral, as if he hadn't been the one losing control last night.
The dark circles under his eyes were even worse than mine, though.
I shuffled over and slid into the chair across from him.
"Morning," I said quietly.
He grunted without looking up.
The awkwardness was suffocating.
[Ooh, starting the cold war already?]
[Claire, go apologize! At least pass him a croissant or something!]
I silently picked up a croissant and took a bite.
Apologize? What about my pride?
Even though it really was my fault.
While I was battling with myself, the comments refreshed again.
[Warning! The original female lead, Olivia, will appear tonight at the Sutton Manor dinner party!]
[According to the original plot, Olivia will comfort Ethan as his therapist, and they'll fall in love at first sight!]
[The cannon fodder wife is running out of time!]
The croissant in my mouth suddenly tasted like cardboard.
Olivia was showing up tonight?
Didn't that mean I was about to be written off?
No way. I hadn't gotten my divorce settlement yet!
I had to go to that dinner.
I had to protect my position as Mrs. Sutton, at least until I got the money.
Ethan set down his coffee cup and rose from his seat, already reaching for his jacket.
"We have dinner at Sutton Manor tonight," he said coolly. "Be ready."
I shot to my feet, and my entire demeanor shifted in an instant.
"Of course, Honey!" I beamed at him, laying it on thick. "Absolutely! I'll make sure I'm prepared. I won't embarrass you, I promise!"
Ethan stopped mid-stride and turned back, his gaze sweeping over me with obvious suspicion.
[Well, well. Hell must've frozen over.]
[He must be wondering what she's plotting now.]
He didn't say anything more. He just turned and walked out.
I watched his retreating figure and clenched my fists at my sides.
Olivia. I couldn't wait to see what kind of woman you really were.
That afternoon, I pulled out all the stops.
I booked an appointment at the city's most exclusive salon and had my hair styled to perfection. Then I selected a stunning red gown from my closet, the kind that would make every other woman in the room fade into the wallpaper.
I studied my reflection in the mirror. My skin glowed, my eyes sparkled, and I radiated confidence.
[Wow, she's got that leading lady energy going.]
[But isn't that dress a bit much? It's just a family dinner.]
[Does she think she's walking a red carpet or something?]
I didn't care. If this were war, I would be dressing for battle.
That evening, Ethan's car pulled up right on time.
I gathered my skirt and slid into the car with what I thought was pure elegance.
When Ethan saw me, he visibly froze.
He was wearing a charcoal-tailored suit that made him look even more commanding and untouchable.
His gaze traveled slowly up and down my body, and his brow furrowed.
He asked, "You're wearing that?"
I smoothed my hair, brimming with confidence. "Does it look bad?"
He stayed silent for a moment and looked away. "Button it up."
I glanced down. The dress had a plunging neckline, and my cleavage was definitely on display. I quietly tugged the fabric higher.
[LOL. Ethan's embarrassed! His ears are red!]
[He was probably thinking who she was dressed up for. Nobody else gets to see her like this.]
I stole a glance at him. The tips of his ears were flushed.
So he could actually blush?
The car pulled up to Sutton Manor, and the moment I stepped out, I understood what real old money looked like.
Marble columns stretched toward the sky, sprawling wings extended in both directions, and manicured gardens rolled across the grounds. The estate dwarfed my family's mansion by at least ten times.
An elegant woman swept toward us. Joanne Sutton smiled warmly and took my hand. "Ethan, Claire, you made it. Claire, you look absolutely stunning today."
"Thank you, Joanne," I replied sweetly.
We walked into the living room, and several people were already seated inside.
Ethan's father, Felix Sutton, sat in the center armchair. Ethan's eldest brother and his wife occupied the sofa, and a handful of extended relatives filled the remaining seats.
These old-money gatherings always came with an undercurrent of quiet judgment.
I sat with perfect posture and tried to play the part of the refined society wife.
A soft voice drifted from the entrance. "Sorry I'm late."
My chest tightened. She was here.