“Clarissa,” Julian said, lowering his voice, “let’s not make this ugly.”
She almost laughed.
“Ugly?” she repeated. “Julian, I wore loneliness like a second skin in your house. You paraded her through my marriage. You let her mock me in front of the staff. And now you are worried about ugly?”
Chloe’s face flushed crimson. “You’re acting like a victim, but you never belonged in his world.”
Arthur’s head turned slowly toward her.
The temperature seemed to drop.
“Miss Miller,” he said, “you are wearing a necklace purchased using a Cross Holdings discretionary account currently under audit.”
Chloe grabbed the diamonds at her throat.
Julian hissed, “Arthur, enough.”
“No,” Clarissa said.
Her voice was quiet, but the ballroom heard her.
“Let him finish.”
Arthur nodded to his assistant.
A screen behind the stage flickered.
Moments earlier, it had displayed the Apex Group Charity Gala logo. Now it showed a series of documents: wire transfers, luxury purchases, hotel bookings, jewelry receipts, and private messages.
