The Rich Wife's Regret novel Chapter 4

Zoe finally looked up, her eyes narrowed as she saw Emma.

“I’m handling my own husband. What’s it to you?” she snapped.

“Zoe Miller, we’re divorced,” I said coldly.

She was speechless. Her friends jumped in, their expressions turning serious.

“You’ve got the wrong guy, sweetheart. He’s not a painter anymore. What painting are you talking about? Some crap Zoe commissioned when they were together?”

“Honey, you’re confused. The guy you’re thinking of is dead, rotting in prison. This guy is a washed-up drunk. Maybe even a failed murderer.”

The emphasis on “washed-up” made my face burn.

I didn’t want my only fan to see me like this.

“Yeah, you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m just a bartender now,” I mumbled.

Zoe, seeing me surrender, relaxed slightly. She tossed a wad of cash on the table – maybe twenty grand.

In this age of Venmo and Apple Pay, she was using cash to humiliate me. There was no dignity in scrambling for bills on your knees.

Emma frowned, her eyes hardening.

“I’ll buy his drinks. Is that a problem?”

Zoe’s entourage laughed.

“Do you even know who we are? You’re picking a fight, honey. Can’t you take a hint?”

Emma blinked innocently. “I just want to buy him a drink. He’s my type. The drinks are already paid for, so what’s the big deal? I’m just taking him with me.”

Zoe’s eyes narrowed. She pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

“Hey, boss, there’s someone causing a scene at your bar. You planning on staying in business? Don’t you know who your customers are?”

My heart lurched.

I saw one of the bouncers head outside.

“I… I’m sorry! Please, just throw me out! I’m crazy! I’m an idiot!”

Emma snorted and grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the door.

Zoe tried to stop us, but the owner whispered urgently in her ear, “That’s Howard’s daughter! We can’t mess with her! She’s the Howard! Top of the food chain!”

His whisper, though meant to be discreet, rang in my ears.

Howard. The name was legendary. He could make or break the stock market with a snap of his fingers.

Emma dragged me out, but a glass shattered behind us. It was flying toward Emma’s head. Instinctively, I reached out to block it, the glass shards slicing into my injured wrist.

Emma, oblivious, continued walking.

Zoe’s desperate voice echoed behind us. “Gavin! If you walk out that door, don’t ever come back!”

I stumbled out of the bar, feeling numb.