I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Chapter 57 - 58 Evidence On a Silver Platter

Chapter 57: Chapter 58 Evidence On a Silver Platter

Rhys blinked.

He looked mildly concussed, and maybe he was.

Then he snarled, ‘Why the hell should I? She poured the damn drink on purpose, she hit Catherine, you hit me. Now you want us to say sorry?’

He looked around as if looking for support.

Too bad no one was on his side.

Every guest was shouting for him to apologise.

Some even pulled out their phones—classic Skyline behaviour. Justice via Instagram Live.

Rhys glared at me.

His whole body was shaking.

If we’d been alone, I bet he’d have swung back.

But we weren’t.

He might be stupid, but no way was he hitting a woman on camera.

So he used his mouth instead.

‘Mirabelle, who the hell do you think you are? You cheated, you ran off with some other guy, you broke off the engagement. If anyone should apologise, it’s you.’

I smiled. ‘You’re saying I cheated?’

Rhys went red. Loud red. ‘Yes! You cheated!’

‘You’re saying I ran off with some random guy?’

‘Damn right! You’re heartless. You slept around while we were still together, then dumped me like trash. You’re a disgrace.’

He kept yelling, voice cracking, arms flailing.

I waited for him to run out of steam.

Then I asked, ‘So... you got proof of any of that?’

That gave him pause. ‘No... But it’s true!’

‘Brilliant,’ I said, giving my phone a little twirl between my fingers. ‘Because I recorded all that. Every word.’

His jaw dropped. ‘You recorded it? What for?’ He sneered. ‘Gonna cry over it at home?’

I shook my head. ‘You really are an idiot.’

Then I turned to the crowd behind us and raised my voice just enough. ‘You all heard that, right? Rhys Granger slandering me at a public event. I’ve already got a lawyer. Consider yourselves witnesses.’

Rhys started sweating. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

I spun back. ‘I was worried I didn’t have enough to go on. But then you showed up and handed me evidence on a silver platter. Thanks for that, by the way.’

He stood there gaping.

Took him a full ten seconds to reboot.

‘You’re suing me?’ he spluttered. ‘You seriously think you’ve got the guts?’

Catherine was whispering under her breath like I couldn’t hear her. ‘Rhys isn’t totally wrong. You were messing around with some random guy, weren’t you?’

I pointed my phone in her direction. ‘I recorded that, too. And I’ll be adding your name to the lawsuit. You and Rhys can split the court fees.’

Her mouth snapped shut. Fast.

Rhys must’ve finally clocked the way everyone was staring at him—like he’d just farted in church—because he grabbed Catherine’s arm and turned to bolt for the door.

‘Oi!’ Yvaine shouted after them. ‘You still owe me for my bloody dress!’

They kept walking like their lives depended on getting the hell out of there.

They didn’t get far.

Cassian Langford stepped in from the side, casual as anything, and blocked their path.

I nudged Yvaine. ‘Is he part of your plan, too?’

She nudged back. ‘No. Didn’t even know he was coming today.’

‘Mr Granger,’ he said, ‘we’re not quite done here. You’ve yet to apologise, and the dress still hasn’t been paid for. Surely that’s not the way the Grangers handle things?’

Cassian was smiling, but there was no warmth in it.

His familiar predator-like expression reminded me of Ashton, and I suddenly understood what Cassian was doing here.

Rhys froze.

He might’ve been dumb enough to piss off Yvaine, but even he wasn’t suicidal enough to cross a Langford.

Rhys’s dad, Clive, basically bowed when he saw Cassian at corporate events.

‘Mr Langford, you saw what happened,’ Rhys tried. ‘It was Yvaine and Mirabelle who got physical. Catherine and I were the victims.’

He actually sounded like he believed that.

‘Then call the police,’ Cassian said. ‘I don’t care about the scuffle. That’s for the court to sort out. But you’re not denying that your girlfriend here’—he tilted his chin at Catherine—‘ruined Yvaine’s dress?’

‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ Rhys said in a hurry.

Catherine looked like she wanted to say something but Rhys shut her down.

‘Fine. Will you at least acknowledge that she’s your date? You did show up to the party with her, didn’t you?’ Cassian glanced at the photographer Yvaine had hired. ‘If you need help jogging your memory...’

‘No need! Yeah, she’s my... date,’ Rhys admitted reluctantly.

‘Good. I imagine fifteen grand isn’t beyond the Granger family budget?’

Rhys could definitely afford it.

But handing over the money would mean admitting Yvaine and I had won.

‘It was an accident,’ he tried vainly. ‘And Yvaine ruined Cathy’s dress, too. Maybe we should just call it even?’

‘I hear Granger Development Group is bidding on that Redwood Creek redevelopment project? I happen to have friends who are sitting on the City Planning Commission...’ Cassian didn’t need to finish the sentence.

Rhys got the hint fast.

If he fumbled that deal over a dress, his dad would actually murder him with a caviar spoon.

‘We’ll pay,’ Rhys blurted. ‘Of course we’ll pay. It’s all a misunderstanding, just a stupid dress...’

He shot Catherine a look that basically screamed: pay up or I will drown you in the punch bowl.

She gave him that wide-eyed, damsel-in-distress stare, hoping he’d swoop in and save her wallet.

He didn’t blink. ‘Catherine, transfer the money. Now.’

‘But, Rhys!’ she whined.

Rhys didn’t budge.

Eventually, with half the room watching, Catherine pulled out her phone and tapped through the transfer.

Yvaine’s phone buzzed.

She checked the screen, saw the money had landed, and gave a tiny nod. ‘You’re free to go.’

Rhys and Catherine slithered out of the house.

Yvaine looked disappointed. ‘I’ve got more stuff planned.’

I smiled. ‘Maybe next time.’

She looped her arm through mine. ‘Come on, now it’s time for the real party. Also, where’s your boyfriend? I did send Ashton an invite, didn’t I?’

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ I said automatically.

Yvaine grinned. ‘Sure, sure. Because he’s obviously much more than that now.’

She leaned in, eyes gleaming.

I knew that look.

I’d seen it too many times not to brace for impact.

I tried to squirm away, but she was fast.

‘So? How’s married life treating you? You climb that man yet or what? What position did you use? Were you on top or—’

I bolted for the bathroom before her questions got even more X-rated.