Chapter 5

Perhaps it was guilt that lingered in Tom's heart, for the next few days, he stayed close to Simone. While working from home, he also meticulously went over every detail of their upcoming wedding.

But on this day, a business cocktail party required his attendance.

Tom insisted Simone accompany him, and before she could refuse, he had already scheduled a stylist to come to their home.

At the party, Simone quickly realized that Belinda was also present.

Belinda wore a tight, V-neck gown that accentuated her perfect figure. She approached them with a smile, her voice soft yet confident.

"Mr. Francis, Miss Watson."

Simone looked at Belinda, who carried herself with grace and composure. Her expression was calm and poised, a stark contrast to the provocative woman Simone had encountered the previous night.

It was clear—Belinda’s acting skills were just as polished as Tom’s.

Simone caught the subtle shift in Tom’s demeanor. His gaze darkened ever so slightly when it fell on Belinda, and his Adam's apple moved faintly. Yet, he maintained his grip on Simone’s hand, playing the part of the composed and aloof superior, offering only a curt nod in response.

As soon as Tom’s presence was noticed, attendees began approaching him with their wine glasses, eager to strike up a conversation.

Some of the other wives tried to talk to Simone, but as always, she played the role of someone who couldn't hear, pretending to be oblivious.

Tom smiled and explained her silence to them one by one. Concerned that she might feel bored, he personally selected her favorite pastries and placed a glass of juice by her side. His thoughtful gestures drew admiration from those around them.

"Mr. Francis truly is an exceptional man."

"I’ve heard so much about Mr. Francis’s devotion to his fiancée, and now I see it firsthand."

Simone kept her gaze lowered, her long lashes casting shadows that concealed the mockery in her eyes.

Amid the conversations, Tom’s phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted subtly. Offering a polite apology, he said, "Please excuse me, everyone. I have a bit of work to attend to."

He turned to Simone, speaking in sign language.

"Simone, I have something to take care of. Stay here and wait for me. I’ll be back soon."

Simone instinctively scanned the room. Belinda was nowhere to be seen.

Moments later, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Belinda.

Attached was a screenshot of a chat.

The image showed a message Belinda had sent—a photo of her bare back, the zipper of her dress undone all the way to the bottom, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Below the photo was a caption:

"Mr. Francis, my zipper won’t go up. Can you come help me?"

Tom’s reply was brief: “Location.”

Belinda’s follow-up message to Simone was dripping with malice:

"He couldn't even wait until the end of the party. We did it in the restroom, right there where people were passing by. You can imagine how thrilling that was. Twice, Simone. Twice. My legs can barely hold me now."

"Oh, and we didn’t use protection this time either. Honestly, I’ve lost count of how many times we haven’t. He said if I get pregnant, he’ll let me keep the baby. Who knows? Maybe I’m already carrying his child right now."

Simone closed her eyes, pressing her hand firmly over her chest as if trying to suppress the sharp pain radiating from within.

He couldn’t even wait a few hours? The desperation was unbearable.

Her phone vibrated again.

Expecting another taunt from Belinda, Simone hesitated before unlocking it. To her surprise, it wasn’t Belinda this time.

It was a message from the agency handling her staged disappearance.

"Miss Watson, your new identity has been prepared. We’ve booked your flight for five days from now, departing at 6 PM to England. Please confirm if you still intend to leave."

Simone opened her camera, positioned it to capture her face, and recorded a short video.

"I confirm my departure," she said calmly.

As her words fell, a panicked voice came from behind her.

"Leaving? Are you leaving, Simone?"