Chapter 7

Linda sat at the head table, her face creased with a wide smile.

Ryan stood up, clapping and leading the crowd in shouting, "Aunt Claire!"

I sat in the corner, my glass of red wine untouched.

Claire was invited onto the stage, and the host handed her the microphone.

"Ms. White, is there anything you'd like to say to Mr. Quinn?" the host asked.

Claire looked at Richard. "I don't care about titles or labels. I want to be with you for the rest of your life."

Some people in the audience sighed, touched by what she said.

She turned to me. "And thank you, Stella, for looking after Richard so well."

The spotlight swept across my face.

The host immediately said, "Ms. Shaw is also here. Ms. Shaw, would you like to come up and say a few words?"

Ryan mouthed to me, "Don't come up."

I stood up anyway.

My high heels made no sound as I walked across the carpet.

I took the microphone, meeting the eyes of those in the audience who were waiting for me to make a fool of myself.

I said, "Mr. Quinn mentioned that Claire gave him strength during his toughest times."

Claire gripped the microphone tightly. "Stella, please don't get me wrong."

I looked at her. "When Quinn Enterprises landed its first big deal, who stayed up all night with Richard to prepare the bid? Who waited outside the client's office until 4 a.m.? Who took the whiskey-spiked coffee for him?"

People in the audience started whispering to each other.

Richard walked over to me. "Stella, that's enough."

I kept my gaze away from him. "Ms. White, where were you back then?"

Claire's face went pale. "I was studying out of town."

"So, did you mail him your support from out of town?" I asked.

Someone in the crowd couldn't help but laugh.

Ryan rushed onto the stage. "Happy now, Mom?"

I handed him the microphone. "You got something to say too?"

Ryan took the microphone. "All I know is, Aunt Claire would never put Dad on the spot like this. Mom, you showed up tonight to wreck Dad's party, didn't you?"

Richard said in a low voice, "Ryan, get off the stage."

Ryan refused to back down. "Am I wrong? She already took the family assets, and now she wants to steal the credit that belongs to Aunt Claire. What does she know about Dad building the company?"

I looked at him. "Ryan, do you know who actually fixed the pocket watch you got for your eighteenth birthday?"

He paused, a little confused. "Aunt Claire gave it to me."

"I asked who fixed it," I pressed.

Claire quickly said, "I was the one who took it to an old watchmaker to get it fixed."

I pulled a receipt from the watch repair shop out of my purse and handed it to the host.

"Could you read this out loud?" I asked.

The host glanced at Richard, too scared to read it.

The hotel manager rushed over, took the paper, and read: [Repair requested by: Stella. Note: For my son's eighteenth birthday.]

Ryan's face darkened. "So what does that prove?"

I said, "It means some of the things you've been giving Claire credit for all these years weren't actually done by her."

Claire's eyes reddened. "Stella, is this really necessary? I gave him that watch as a sincere gift. Does it really matter who actually got it fixed?"

"It matters," I said, locking eyes with her. "Wearing something you stole doesn't make it yours, no matter how long you keep it."

Some of the old-timers in the audience exchanged glances.

One of them, a workshop supervisor named Carter, stood up. "Mr. Quinn, back then, Stella really did follow you around the factory every single day. We all know that."

Richard's face turned stormy. "Mr. Carter, sit down."

Mr. Carter sat back down, but he didn't clap anymore.

Claire clutched the microphone, her hand pressed to her chest. "I feel a bit unwell."

Richard immediately moved to support her.

Ryan pointed at me. "Is this what you wanted? You got Aunt Claire so worked up."

I put the microphone back on its stand.

"This is the beginning," I said.

The day after the anniversary party, a video popped up online.

The headline was glaring: [Ex-Wife Crashes Party, Forces Longtime Friend to Tears.]

The video only showed the part where I confronted Claire, with no context and none of the receipts.

Aunt Julie threw her phone onto the couch. "Why are these people so vicious?"

In the comments, some people called me greedy, while others said I was still acting jealous and fighting over men even at my age.

Ryan called me, sounding even more pissed than the people online.

"Mom, you saw the video, right? You need to make a public apology right now," Ryan said.

I asked, "Apologize to whom?"

"To Dad, to Aunt Claire, and to Quinn Enterprises. There are reporters swarming outside the company right now," Ryan said.

"So you didn't see this coming when you invited all those reporters?" I shot back.

Ryan was momentarily speechless. "Don't be so sarcastic. Dad said that as long as you apologize, he won't hold anything against you."

"What does he want to hold against me?" I asked.

"You slandered Aunt Claire," Ryan said.

I laughed. "Let her sue me."

Ryan snapped, "Are you really going to make me cut ties with you?"

I shifted the phone to my other hand. "If you want to cut me off, do it."

There was a long silence on the other end.

Ryan's voice went quiet. "Mom, you weren't like this before."

"You used to call me Mom too," I said.

He hung up.