My Billionaire Husband’s “First Love” Tried to Buy Me Off for $1 Million

Chapter 4: The Birthday Trap

The next day, I had planned to take advantage of Alexander’s outing to go on a massive, luxurious shopping spree. I was going to conveniently transfer as much cash into my own private accounts as possible, because every extra penny counts when planning an escape.

Unexpectedly, as soon as I went downstairs, Alexander blocked me at the front door.

He didn’t say a word. He just grabbed my wrist gently and pulled me directly toward his waiting luxury car.

I was completely bewildered. “Alexander, where are we going?”

He loosened his expensive cuff links and answered very briefly, “A birthday party.”

I gasped. “You’re taking me?”

He shot me a cold, sideways glance. “Can’t my wife come with me?”

I didn’t understand what was wrong with him. But if I could go with him, get a free, expensive party, and have the pleasure of seeing Clara’s face change color when I arrived, I definitely wasn’t going to object.

We arrived at a sprawling, breathtaking mountain villa belonging to a member of their elite private club. From the parking lot, I could see the grand garden adorned with crystal hanging lights and rare white flowers covering the pathways—the exact kind of luxurious, over-the-top style favored by wealthy, spoiled young ladies.

As soon as I entered the grand hall holding Alexander’s arm, I saw Clara.

She wore a stunning, long champagne-colored designer dress. Her hair was styled in an elegant, low bun, her wrists were slender and adorned with diamonds, and her smile was gentle. She was the perfect, flawless embodiment of the ultimate high-society goddess. Just standing there, she was beautiful enough to make any other woman feel like a cheap, outdated imitation.

The moment she saw us walk in together, her perfect smile stiffened slightly. Clearly, she hadn’t expected Alexander to actually bring his wife to her party. But a second later, she regained her flawless composure and approached us.

“Seraphina, right?” Clara said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “I couldn’t make it back for your wedding three years ago. I’ve always felt so guilty about that.”

I smiled very gently, matching her energy. “It’s quite alright, Clara. Not being there doesn’t necessarily mean you’re at fault. Some people just aren’t meant to be included.”

She paused for a fraction of a second, her eye twitching slightly, but she still managed to maintain her smile.

I handed her the expensive, beautifully wrapped gift I had grabbed from our house on the way out, wishing her a happy birthday. She accepted it, thanking me politely.

I nudged Alexander’s arm, smiling faintly. It was his turn.

Clara looked up at him with wide, expectant, adoring eyes.

Unexpectedly, Alexander looked at her with absolute, chilling indifference. “She already gave you a gift,” he said coldly. “Consider it two portions combined.”

The atmosphere froze instantly. I almost burst out laughing.

Clara was utterly speechless. “Alexander, how can one gift be counted as two portions from two people?”

Before I could even ask what was going on, I heard him casually add, “We are a family, Clara. A married couple. There is no need for formalities between us.”

I stood beside him, biting the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress my laughter until my stomach hurt.

Clara still smiled outwardly, but I guessed she secretly wanted to strangle both of us. She quickly changed direction, pivoting her strategy. She signaled to a waiter, who brought over a beautifully wrapped velvet box.

“Well, this is the gift I prepared specifically for you, Seraphina,” Clara smiled brightly. “I heard girls from your… background… will absolutely love it.”

My eyes narrowed slightly at the velvet box. A personal gift from the enemy. It’s either something incredibly expensive designed to make me feel poor, or something with special, secret significance between her and my husband designed to make me jealous.

I was about to reach out to take it cautiously.

Just then, Alexander was quicker. He reached out to catch the box for me. But somehow, his large hand “accidentally” slipped.

The velvet box slipped from his grip, tumbling to the hard marble floor. The lid popped open upon impact, revealing a delicate, incredibly rare crystal swan. It shattered into a dozen sharp pieces.

I took a deep breath, reacting with incredibly quick, dramatic reflexes. I immediately absolved myself of any responsibility.

I turned to Alexander, scolding him in an extremely heartbroken, dramatic voice. “Alexander! Is there something wrong with your hands?! You can’t even hold something so precious from your dear friend?”

Then I turned to Clara, pretending to be deeply, painfully apologetic. “I am so, so sorry, Clara. His hands have been a little shaky lately. Too much stress at work, you understand.”

Clara pursed her lips, her face turning a slight shade of red as she forced a tight smile.

Alexander, however, looked down at me. His eyes were so deep and dark, it seemed he desperately wanted to laugh out loud, but he held it back flawlessly.

But at that moment, his other close friend, a snobby heir named Julian, walked over and said he needed to discuss something urgent with Alexander regarding a business merger.

Clara also took this perfect opportunity to lean in closely toward my husband, her voice softening a few degrees, becoming breathless and intimate. “Alexander, I also have something very important I want to talk to you about. Privately.”

I saw that scene, and felt a slight pang of sarcasm in my heart. I knew I should back off; after all, it wasn’t the time to cause a massive, screaming commotion yet. I slipped away into a quiet corner of the buffet table, nibbling on some fresh fruit while secretly eavesdropping on the conversation of the wealthy young ladies standing nearby.

My efforts paid off. A group of socialites stood behind a pillar, their voices not quiet at all.

“I heard that the Sterling CEO is about to get a divorce,” one girl gossiped excitedly. “He only married that poor girl to appease his sick grandmother. Now that Clara is back, replacing the stand-in is normal.”

“I heard they’re even living in separate bedrooms,” another whispered. “But Seraphina definitely won’t agree to a divorce. Who would want to leave a billionaire who’s already tied to the Sterling family? She’s a gold-digger.”

“But a man who’s been married before is still damaged goods,” the first girl concluded smugly. “The wealthy Clara might not even want his sloppy seconds.”

I immediately turned around, stepping out from behind the pillar, smiling radiantly at the terrified group of gossiping girls.

“Who exactly are you talking about?” I asked brightly.

The socialites froze in unison, their faces turning pale with horror.

I continued casually munching on my fruit, smiling gently. “That’s right, ladies. I am Seraphina.”

The atmosphere was eerily, painfully silent. They looked like deer caught in headlights. I wanted to hear more of their stuttering apologies, when suddenly a waiter walked over to me.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the waiter whispered politely. “There is a girl crying in the second-floor restroom. She asked for you specifically. She said she needed your help with her dress.”

I immediately understood.

Sure enough, it had come. A classic, typical manipulation trick to isolate me.

I pretended to nod innocently and followed the waiter upstairs.

The restroom on the second floor was incredibly quiet and isolated. I had barely stepped inside the luxurious bathroom when I heard a sharp click behind me.

The heavy oak door was locked from the outside.

I walked over to the marble sink, leaned against it, and chuckled softly to myself. Truly, these wealthy heiresses lacked any real, gritty creativity.

I opened my designer clutch. The trinkets I hid in my bag weren’t just for show. Ever since I had been forced to survive in a tough neighborhood before my marriage, I had learned a few practical, unconventional skills.

I took off my metal hair clip, bent it straight, knelt down, and fiddled with the locking mechanism for a few seconds. The door clicked open smoothly. I adjusted my silk dress, pushed the fake “Out of Order” sign aside, and calmly walked out.

In the quiet hallway, Clara was standing there, waiting for my panicked screams.

When she saw me walk casually out of the bathroom, she froze as if she had just seen a ghost.

I smiled broadly, walked right up to her, and patted her lightly on the shoulder. “The restroom is all clear now, Clara. You can go in if you need it.”

She stammered, her face turning red. “Oh… really? Thank you.”

I calmly walked back down the grand staircase to the banquet hall.

(Click ‘Next’ to continue)

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