Chapter 4

The night of the charity gala arrived in a flash.

Blake, a true miracle worker, had arranged everything for me, from the haute couture gown to the fine jewelry. Nothing was short of perfection.

I examined my reflection in the mirror, thoroughly pleased with the result.

The makeup was flawless, and my posture was impeccable. I was ready to play my part as the gorgeous arm candy of a CEO.

The ride to the banquet hall was shrouded in oppressive silence. Theo didn't say a single word to me. I didn't mind. It gave me the quiet time I needed to run through the event's agenda and my list of social protocols one last time.

The venue was a glittering spectacle of wealth and power, a sea of designer gowns and hushed conversations.

I looped my arm through Theo's, fixed a pleasant, generic smile on my face, and settled into my role as his beautifully silent shadow.

Eyes followed us everywhere. Curious glances at Theo would slide over to me, their expressions shifting to a look of dawning, slightly smug understanding.

I could read their thoughts as clearly as a stock ticker. They thought I was just another pretty face he bought.

It didn't faze me in the slightest. Their opinions didn't sign my paychecks.

Halfway through the evening, the emcee took the stage to announce the main auction item: a priceless, one-of-a-kind landscape painting by a master from a bygone imperial era.

The bidding started at two million dollars, exactly my entire monthly paycheck.

Just then, Claire glided toward us, a champagne flute held delicately in her hand.

She was a vision in a flowing champagne-colored gown, looking every bit the graceful, sophisticated woman of the world.

She gave Theo a warm smile before her gaze settled on me. "Ms. Reed, you look absolutely lovely tonight."

"You're too kind, Ms. Linwood," I replied with my best customer-service smile.

"I hear you've taken up art appreciation recently," Claire said, her voice turning sly as her eyes drifted toward the painting on the stage. "I'd be fascinated to hear your take on 'Autumn Mountain Crossing.'"

It was a public trap, designed to make me look like an idiot.

She was testing my skills in front of the elite, hoping for a spectacular failure.

In the original novel, this was the exact moment the original Vivian was humiliated, becoming the laughingstock of high society and a major embarrassment to Theo.

I wasn't about to repeat that history. But I also wasn't about to get into a catfight. Engaging in a public rivalry with a key stakeholder in front of the primary client was a rookie mistake.

So, I offered a gentle smile and chose the safest response.

"I'm afraid I'm no expert," I said sweetly. "I just think it's very pretty."

My reply was simple and direct, perfectly in character for a "trophy wife."

Claire was visibly thrown. She had been expecting a fumblingly ignorant response, not a cheerfully self-aware one.

But she recovered in a heartbeat, her voice taking on a subtle, lecture-hall tone of superiority.

"Well, the artist, Edward Chandler, was the most renowned painter in the past. He produced countless works, but this piece is from his later years, when his brushwork had reached a state of near-perfection. The atmospheric perspective and the use of negative space..."

She launched into a full-blown art history dissertation, dazzling the onlookers who had gathered around us. They gazed at her with open admiration. Even Theo had a flicker of appreciation in his eyes.

I listened intently, my polite smile never wavering, while my internal processor went into overdrive.

Clearly, Theo showed a clear preference for partners with a deep knowledge of fine arts.

I had to add 'Art History' and 'Antique Appraisal' to my professional development plan.

Just as Claire's solo performance was reaching its grand finale, the event's host, a portly man named Jack Warren, bustled over.

He clapped Theo on the shoulder, beaming. "Theo, my boy! Listen, I was meant to give the opening remarks for this auction, but I've got a small fire to put out.

"Would you mind terribly if your lovely wife said a few words to get the ball rolling? Just a little something to warm up the crowd!"

I froze.

My brain screeched to a halt. An impromptu speech? This wasn't in the book!