Chapter 3
Moments later, a gorgeous fruit platter was set down right in front of me.
"Sandra, don't worry. Dad's got your back," Dad said. "Just one call, and he'll lose everything."
Before I could say anything, a notification suddenly popped up on my phone.
[Does your sugar daddy make you chicken soup too?] the message read. Attached was a photo of Roger in the kitchen.
He was wearing an apron, totally focused as he sliced carrots for the soup.
For five years, he hadn't lifted a finger to do any housework.
When I was in the hospital with appendicitis, groggy and miserable, I wanted some cereal.
He got impatient and raised his voice, "Seriously? I'm a guy. How am I supposed to know how to make that? Can't you just order takeout? You're driving me crazy."
I thought I was being too demanding, but the truth was, he never really loved me at all.
"Sandra, honey, what did that punk Roger do now?" Dad's brows knitted together.
Dad could tell I'd just seen something bad.
"It's nothing, Dad. I don't want to talk about him anymore." I gripped my phone tighter and looked down.
"Does Roger really think he can do whatever he wants just because he's got a little power?" Dad scoffed. "Let's see how long he lasts without the Ames family backing him up."
Dad suddenly shot up from his seat, spun around, and grabbed his phone, ready to pull our support for the Watson Group in a heartbeat.
I quickly stopped him.
After a long pause, I sighed. "They humiliated me so much. I want to make them suffer everything I endured before."
Dad shot me a proud, approving look. "That's my girl!"
The door swung open.
"Sandra, you've had it rough," a voice said.
My brother, Deacon Ames, had returned.
"There's a charity gala tomorrow night. Come with me. Getting out for a bit will do you good," Deacon said.
"And don't say no. It's been way too long since we spent time together," he added with a warm smile.
I hesitated for a moment, but nodded.
*****
The crystal chandeliers bathed the ballroom in a gentle, dreamy light, setting the perfect mood for the evening.
Wearing a white gown, I stepped into the ballroom, holding onto Deacon's arm, feeling more at ease with him by my side.
All eyes in the room immediately turned to us.
"Isn't that Deacon Ames, the eldest son of the Ames Group?"
"Is the girl with him Miss Sandra Ames?"
"No way. Miss Ames has been overseas for years and never comes home. Why would she care about a small gala like this?"
"Well, if it isn't Samantha?" Lainey drawled. She stood up, lazily swirling her wine glass.
It seemed like she'd never set foot in highest elite circles before, since she didn't even know who Deacon was.
"So, this is your sugar daddy?" Lainey said with a smirk. "He doesn't look half bad. I was expecting some dried-up old guy hacking up a lung."
She couldn't help but chuckle at her own joke.
Everyone just stared at her, jaws practically on the floor.
"Better watch your mouth," Deacon said coldly.
"Do you even know who you're messing with? You don't want to end up dead without knowing why." Deacon rolled his eyes at her, clearly fed up.
But instead of backing down, Lainey just got even cockier.
She said, "Who do you think you are? My husband is Roger Watson. We're about to work with the Ames Group on a big project."
Deacon's face darkened. He let go of my hand and walked right up to Lainey. "Roger Watson? So you're Lainey Cooper?"
Deacon's questions left Lainey completely rattled and confused. She stumbled back, her face going pale.
"What do you think you're doing?" she said.
"Samantha, keep your sugar daddy on a leash. Tell him to stop causing trouble," Lainey sneered.
Before Deacon could say a word, quick footsteps sounded behind us.
"Lainey, what's wrong?" Roger came rushing over, adjusting his tie.
When his eyes landed on us, he froze.
He squinted, clearly having no idea who the guy standing in front of him was.
He snarked, "Samantha, wow, you really don't waste any time. Barely divorced and you've already landed yourself a new sugar daddy?
"But your taste in men is still as bad as ever. This guy looks like just another leech trying to cozy up to the rich and powerful."
Roger's voice was as condescending as ever.
He lit up a cigar, took a long drag, and blew the smoke right in my face.
My eyes stung and tears streamed down my cheeks.
He knew I was allergic to tobacco, but he did it anyway, just to make me suffer.
"Damn right," Lainey chimed in. "Without the Watson family, you'd be nothing."
With Roger backing her up, Lainey perked right up, acting all high and mighty again.
"Roger, look at him. He really thinks he can intimidate us!" Lainey sneered. "Nowadays, even nobodies think they can play big shot at a fancy party like this."
She walked up and clung to Roger's arm.
"That's enough!" Deacon barked. "Don't you know Samantha's allergic to tobacco?"
Deacon stormed over and ripped the cigar straight out of Roger's hand.
He hurled it to the ground and crushed it under his heel, grinding it out ruthlessly.
Tension grew.
Just then, the sharp click of high heels echoed from behind us.