Chapter 4
As he spoke, Gideon raised the microphone and bellowed toward the entrance. “Security! Get in here!” With his command, more than a dozen security personnel wearing Whitaker Group of Companies badges stormed into the venue. Under Gideon’s direction, they quickly surrounded me, forming a tight perimeter. Meanwhile, Gideon stepped down from the rostrum—but despite his bravado, he stayed safely behind the security guards, keeping a cautious two-meter distance from me. “Gideon, are you really trying to force my hand?” I asked, my voice calm but laced with warning. “Don’t forget—I’m still legally married. Aren’t you afraid of how Everett will react when she finds out about this?” At my words, Gideon threw his head back and laughed. “I knew you’d hide behind Everett! Lucky for me, I came prepared.” With a smug grin, he pulled out his phone in front of the crowd, dialed a number, and after a few rings, pressed the speaker button. Everett’s voice came through loud and clear. “Desmond, I want a divorce.” The entire room fell silent. I remained expressionless. “Judging from your tone, Everett, you must have found a new ‘buyer,’ haven’t you?” I could practically hear the excitement in her voice. “Name your price,” she said. “As long as you agree to the divorce, you can have whatever amount you want.” She avoided answering my question directly, but I wasn’t in a rush. This was a slow game—like boiling a frog in warm water. I let out a soft chuckle. “No need to pay me. I believe the Whitaker Family will collapse soon enough.” Then, my tone turned cold and sharp as a blade. “I just want to know one thing—who dared to take a woman from me?” Everett scoffed. “You don’t deserve to know his name.” “But I’ll tell you this—he’s from London. He’s at a level you’ll never reach in your lifetime.” At that, I almost laughed out loud. A man from London? How could I not know who he was? I just found it amusing that someone had the audacity to challenge me. Before I could respond, Gideon snatched the phone back. “Alright, alright, even if Everett told you who he was, what could you possibly do?” he sneered. “Be smart, Desmond. Strip off your clothes now and at least walk away with a breakup fee.” “For a kept man like you, isn’t that the best deal you could hope for?” He kept pushing, taunting me over and over again. But instead of reacting, I held back. Not out of fear—but because I needed to confirm who was pulling the strings behind the scenes. Now that the truth was coming to light, there was no need to tolerate him any longer. “Enough!” My voice cuts through the room like a whip. I swept my gaze over the gathered employees, then spoke with quiet authority. “This meeting is over.” “You all have two choices—leave now while you still can, or stay and be my enemy.” “And let me be clear—I never show mercy to my enemies.” For a brief moment, the room was silent. Then, laughter erupted. “You hear that? This pretty boy thinks he can order us around!” “Desmond, do you think you’re still a big shot?!” “Didn’t you hear the call? Even Everett has abandoned you. What right do you have to make threats?” Their mockery filled the air, but I didn’t flinch. I simply exhaled slowly, suppressing the fire in my chest. And when I spoke next, my voice was dangerously calm. “I don’t know if you’ve heard the saying—there’s always someone better than you.” I met their amused stares with a calm gaze, my disappointment settling deeper. “I, Desmond, never rely on women to get things done.” Their laughter echoed through the room, a sharp contrast to the cold realization creeping over me. So, this was the so-called workplace? The same people who once spoke to me with respect now mocked me without hesitation—just because Everett wanted to divorce me. Was this the price of staying low-key? For years, I had concealed my true strength, keeping a low profile. Even when I overheard employees gossiping about me, calling me a mere son-in-law or a gigolo, I never bothered to correct them. It was beneath me. But now, I could see how my silence had only emboldened their arrogance. Gideon, growing impatient with my lack of reaction, scowled. “Mr. Delaney, I’ll count to three. If you don’t strip, I’ll have them do it for you!” I slid my hands into my pockets and met his gaze with an amused smirk. “Alright, alright. I’ve played along long enough. I suppose it’s time to remind you all exactly who I am.” Gideon’s face twisted in rage. With a snarl, he rolled up his sleeves and lunged at me— But before he could reach me, the doors to the conference room burst open. Everyone, including Gideon, turned their heads in unison. A young man, about my age, strode in with an air of arrogance, his every step demanding attention. “Desmond,” he drawled, his voice carrying an unmistakable confidence. “I heard you were asking about me?”