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3.66% Marry My Billionaire Second Husband / Chapter 11: Cry Over Spilled Wine

บท 11: Cry Over Spilled Wine

Amelia gulped and wiped her sweaty palms on her dress, hoping that it did not leave handprints. Her eyes darted around the ballroom nervously; the ballroom was full of suited gentlemen and perfumed ladies, all clad in outfits that screamed wealth and extravagance. 

After all, they would have to be frivolously wealthy to take part in this charity auction for the less fortunate. 

Amelia's eyes scanned the crowd, trying to look for her boss. He had mentioned that he needed the restroom, but half an hour had passed and he still hadn't returned. Amelia decided she would give him another five minutes before she called him.

Perhaps he was suffering from a terrible stomachache. She could relate, her stomach gave a few upset growls, but that was due to incredible nervousness. 

"Champagne, miss?" The waiter asked politely, and Amelia gingerly took a glass. She desperately needed something to soothe her nerves. She felt like a fish out of water in such a classy environment, and if it were up to her, she wouldn't have wanted to come.

But Mr. Montgomery had graciously invited her to this charity auction, claiming that it would be a good way for her to rub shoulders with others in the industry. Since he was so concerned for her future career prospects, it would have been ungrateful for Amelia to turn him down.

So she put on her best dress, did her own hair and makeup, and tried to seem confident when he picked her up for the gala. 

But now that she was here, alone and nearly pressed against the wall of the ballroom, she wished she had rejected him. Without the protection offered by Matteo's presence, Amelia felt like she was a bleeding seal effectively thrown to swim with the sharks. 

"What a weird dress… did she not get the dress code?"

"Shush, maybe this is vintage."

"Isn't that another way of saying poor?"

"Watch your words! She came with Matteo Montgomery! There's no way she could be poor!"

"Matteo must be really charitable then…" 

Amelia stifled a sigh that threatened to emerge. She had grown too old for this kind of juvenile catfighting. Maybe when Matteo returned, she could beg off with a headache and go home after thanking him for his kindness. There was no way she could meet someone who was willing to give her a chance. 

Unfortunately for her, her problems were just beginning. An awfully familiar voice echoed throughout the hall, drawing all eyes to her. 

"And what do we have here? Little Amelia, are you lost? I guess Matteo brought the event entertainment for tonight."

It was Caleb, with a smile so genial on his face it almost bordered on vindictiveness. She had always known that Caleb was a handsome man, and in his three-piece suit that cost as much as a year's worth of rent, he was a verifiable head-turner.

But all these women who were admiring him didn't know the truth. Who knew that behind such a good-looking face laid an utterly despicable heart?

"Caleb," Amelia replied evenly, her fingers wrapping around the neck of the wine glass as if she wanted to loop them around his neck. She vowed to keep her cool. Caleb deserved nothing from her. 

Caleb seemed disappointed that she had not burst into tears in front of him, but then the woman hanging off his arm decided to speak, her lips pursed together into a delicate pout that radiated a purity so false that Amelia wanted to retch. 

"Oh, is this the Amelia I've heard so much about? My my Caleb, you're really cruel. How could you pick a girl that looked so much like me to marry? Did you miss me that much?" 

The crowd burst into excited tittering, while Amelia could only blink in sudden understanding. 

This woman was…

"Kelsie Friesent, at your service. Thank you for looking after Caleb all this while," the woman said playfully, laughing demurely behind her hand. Her fingernails were painted with bright red polish that twinkled mockingly under the light of the chandelier. 

Amelia's own fingernails were depressingly bare, the skin of her fingers calloused from years of hard work, and she fought the urge to hide. 

It was impossible for her to unsee the similarities in their looks. They had the same blonde hair and blue eyes― the only difference was that Amelia's hair was just a lighter shade of blonde. 

And of course, the cost of their outfits. This woman was dressed in a pink couture gown with an off-shoulder neckline that gracefully framed her collarbones and shoulders, and the fitted bodice highlighted her slender waistline. Her ears were decorated with long elegant earrings that highlighted her long, slender neck. 

Meanwhile, Amelia wore a simple white sheath dress, the very same she wore when she had registered her marriage with Caleb. It was the only thing she could find that suited the occasion. Her alternative would be to dress like the waiter that handed out the drinks.

Never had she felt so inadequate before. Kelsie Friesent's words had opened up every insecurity she had― it was as though she was looking into an upgraded, more perfect version of herself.

As if to rub salt on her wound, Caleb chuckled, giving Kelsie a fond glance before pecking her on the cheek. 

"Now you know how much you mean to me," Caleb said, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Who else would marry such a poor substitute just because he missed you so much?" 

Kelsie cooed lovingly at him and stroked his cheek. Caleb leaned into her touch, as though he was a dog and she his master.

Disgusting. Amelia spun around, ready to leave these two shameless lovebirds in their own world, but of course her ex-husband and new lover would not let her go unscathed. 

Caleb stepped forward and grabbed a glass of red wine. "Amelia, since we've met, we should have a toast, don't you think so?"

"No," Amelia said flatly, trying to escape, but the two of them cornered, refusing to let her walk away. 

"Nonsense," Kelsie said. She grabbed her own glass of wine from another waiter. "Let us toast to new beginnings!"

Next thing Amelia knew, with the sound of clinking glass, she was drenched in alcohol, smelling like the bottom of a wine barrel.


บท 12: Backup Dress I

Amelia jumped back in shock. With a white dress like that, the cold splash of alcohol left a jarringly obvious stain right on the front. Kelsie's glass was now half empty, and she held a hand against her lips in surprise.

"Oh no!" she cried. "Your dress is ruined!"

She turned to Caleb and playfully swatted his chest. 

"You should've been more careful," she said. "That toast was a little too rough."

"My apologies, sweetheart," he said to her, combing a strand of hair away from her face. "Let's get you a new drink."

"What about Amelia's dress?" Kelsie asked, fluttering her eyelashes. There seemed to be small beads of tears already appearing in her eyes as though she was the victim.

"This dress is long overdue," Caleb said, sneering as he eyed Amelia up and down with disgust. "You've done her a favor, Kelsie. She ought to get rid of this anyway. It belongs in the trash heap."

Amelia clenched her fists tightly, chewing on her bottom lip to suppress her boiling anger. It seemed like Caleb recognized this dress.

She couldn't make a scene, especially not when she was here for work and not for play. This wasn't the neighborhood supermarket, and one wrong thing said or move made could create irreparable damages.

 It didn't matter if her reputation was ruined, but she couldn't risk bringing harm to Matteo. If he fired her, she would have nowhere to go. 

Thus, there wasn't much Amelia could do but hold her tongue, watching as Caleb and Kelsie walked away, a bounce in their steps as they went and got themselves new refreshments. Their bodies disappeared into the crowd, leaving Amelia to bake in the embarrassment alone.

Even after they left, no one bothered to lend a helping hand. They didn't even dare to meet her eyes, as though the wine spilled on her dress was a contagious disease.

Amelia sighed, quickly making her way to a bathroom that was tucked in a hidden corner. It might not do much, but she was hoping some water and soap could still wash off the stain. She didn't have enough money to consign this dress to the trash, despite all the negative memories associated with it.

"What happened to your dress?" Matteo's voice caused Amelia to swivel around in surprise. She had almost forgotten that Matteo had gone to the restroom.

"Wine spilled on it," Amelia said, trying for a casual shrug but not quite managing it. "I'm going to wash it off now." 

But just as she tried to squeeze past him to get to the Ladies', Matteo gripped her arm tightly, stopping her in her tracks. 

"You're not telling me everything. Who spilled it on you?"

"That's not important," Amelia said, shaking her head."I need to wash it off now before it stains for good. Please excuse me."

"It's important to me," Matteo said, tightening his grip, his fingers a brand on her arm. Amelia stared into his tempestuous blue eyes, the very shade of an ocean in a thunderstorm, anger flashing in his irises. 

For a moment, Amelia's mouth ran dry. Matteo almost seemed like he was enraged on her behalf, and she felt her tongue loosen― she wanted to let him know what happened, so he could help her get even.

But then past experiences from school reared their ugly heads, and she felt her tongue stick to the back of her throat. There was no guarantee that Matteo would be on her side, no matter how nice he was to her as a boss. She had only known him for a week, while he, Caleb, and Kelsie ran in the same circles. 

So what if she had told him that Caleb and Kelsie had splashed wine on her? If it came down to it, they would simply claim that it was an accident― that they were simply overenthusiastic in toasting her and that they underestimated their own strength. 

And it wasn't as though Amelia could count on eyewitnesses to back her up. Anyone who spotted her humiliation wouldn't speak up, for fear of being next on their list. Years of being picked on in school by the popular girls meant that she knew all too well how bullies worked. 

In the end, it would come down to her word against theirs. 

Besides, Caleb had said something about Matteo bringing entertainment over. She was just a joke to him, to all of them. 

"Let go of me, Mr. Montgomery, or I'll start screaming," Amelia said, blinking back tears. She needed to go, right now, before she burst into tears.

"Scream all you want," Matteo said evenly, the barest trembling in his fingers. "I'll still be here until you tell me the truth." 

Amelia's body sagged, as though she was a puppet with her strings cut. "Is this a joke to you?" Her voice escaped in a breathless croak. "How could you bring me here just to humiliate me like this? You rich people are all the same! Cruel and heartless―" 

The first hint of confusion entered Matteo's eyes as Amelia began to wipe her eyes frantically, overcome with emotion as memories plagued her mind. 

"Amelia, I would never humiliate you," Matteo said, a furrow forming between his eyebrows. He reached out and placed his hand gingerly on her shoulder as if she was a glass vase prone to shattering at one rough touch.

"Oh yeah? Forgive me for not believing you," Amelia spat out bitterly, twisting away from his touch. With her eyes clouded with tears, she did not catch the faint look of hurt on Matteo's face. "I'm just going to go―"

"Wait!" Matteo said, sounding more panicked. "If you wish to wash your dress, I'll let you pass. But if you want to wear something else, I have an alternative outfit prepared for you."

"What?" It was now Amelia's turn to be confused. 

"Come with me," Matteo said, offering his hand out to her. Once again, Amelia was struck with a sense of déjà vu.


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