A mistress confronting her sessor—I felt like I was in a daytime drama,


    and all I could do wasugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.


    Just as myughter faded, a muffled snicker echoed from behind me. I spun


    around, my heart skipping a beat, only to meet the gaze of a man with a


    naughty smile and a leather jacket, leaning casually against the wall. “Mrs.


    Ferguson’s taste in drama is… unique,” he remarked, with a hint of mischief in


    his eyes.


    Caught eavesdropping, I felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly dissipated. “Aren’t


    you doing the same?” I retorted.


    The man smiled. “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.


    “Well, you have now.” Our banter was cut short as I scrutinized him. “And you


    are? How do you know me?”


    “Gregory Ford.” He straightened up, shedding his carefree demeanor as he


    introduced himself and then, with a nod, said, “Mrs. Ferguson, until we meet


    again.”


    Without another word, he walked away, only to grab Dorothy, the heiress with


    a penchant for trouble, by her ponytail. “Dorothy, with your kind of brains, not


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    knowing the main yer from the sideline, maybe try not being a mistress,”


    he quipped with mean sarcasm.


    Dorothy furrowed her brows in anger. “What do you mean, Greg?”


    “If I hear that disgusting term from you again, I’m sending you back home


    tonight,” Gregory warned before letting her go, casting a meaningful nce


    back at me as if he was about to reveal the truth to his “girl,” but instead, he


    just smirked, “That’s why you’re called dumb.”


    I was surprised. A quick mental rundown of RiverCity’s elite didn’t ce him


    anywhere, and there he was, dressed down and fitting in effortlessly at


    dys’ 80th birthday bash.


    Just then, my phone rang.


    “Where are you?” Bryant’s indifferent voice came through.


    I smirked, “Ground floor, by the restroom. Just watched your ‘mistress’ and


    ‘the other woman’ showdown.”


    “What mistress? I’ming to you!” Bryant’s tone grew colder, and soon


    enough, he found me.


    Hiding my feelings, I smiled. “We’re getting divorced, Bryant. What’s there to


    care about?”


    He clenched his jaw. “You do know your ce, don’t you?”


    With that, he took my arm. “Come, let’s go and wish dys a happy


    birthday.”


    “Okay.” It didn’t m