From Neglected Wife to CEO’s Obsession novel Chapter 153

At six thirty, the makeup artist wrapped up and quietly slipped out, leaving the house in a hush of anticipation. Ryan was already ushering me outside and I barely had a moment to check myself in the car window before we were off. My makeup was light and natural, skin glowing, eyes bright, lips tinted a soft cherry blossom pink. There was a gentle shimmer in my eyes, like I’d just stepped out of a dream.

My dress was classic and graceful, hugging my frame in a way that made me feel like I belonged in an old watercolor—one of those women from the misty gardens of the south, maybe holding a paper umbrella in the rain. My parents used to say I had an old-fashioned elegance, and tonight, paired with this dress, I finally saw what they meant.

We swung by the office to pick up Elliot and Blake. Since I was technically their subordinate, I got out of the car to greet them, just to be polite.

Blake’s eyes widened for a split second, a flash of surprise and something else—admiration, maybe? He nudged Elliot’s good shoulder and grinned. “Nice move, man.”

I had no clue what that was supposed to mean, or why he was smirking at Elliot like that. There was no time to figure it out.

Elliot’s eyes—sharp and deep—flickered with an emotion I couldn’t quite read. He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttered something under his breath, and then that was it.

The charity auction tonight was in the ballroom at the very top of the Grand Palace, Georgia Bay’s most famous building. By the time we pulled up, the entrance was flooded with reporters, cameras everywhere, everyone eager for gossip.

Staff in crisp white shirts and black pants hustled around, trying to keep things organized. A wide red carpet stretched from the steps all the way to the elevator, bright and bold, letting everyone know this was a big deal.

By tradition, Elliot was supposed to get out first, circle around, and open my door for me—classic gentleman style. But the second he showed his face, the press swarmed, shouting, shoving cameras and mics, all trying to get to him.

Blake gave a tiny wave.

Suddenly, four black SUVs behind us emptied out and a team of huge men in black suits moved in, blocking the crowd with practiced ease.

The bodyguards could hold back the press, but they couldn’t stop the questions flying at us from every direction.

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