"Ok then, let's go say hi to Sarah and her husband," Lara suggested boldly, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she looked up at Allan.
Allan frowned. His jaw tightened at the suggestion, but he didn't say anything—his silence louder than words.
"Count me in," Karl said eagerly, standing next to them with a grin. His energy contrasted sharply with Allan's tension.
"Ok guys, let's go," Lara added with a smile that barely masked her underlying motive. She didn't care how Allan reacted—if he was still jealous, then good. She was ready to make him even more jealous. Forget about her, Allan. Look at me instead, she thought as she started walking.
Allan didn't want to go. Every step toward Sarah felt like stepping into a room with no air. But he had no choice now—Lara was already ahead, and Karl was practically skipping beside her.
Reluctantly, Allan followed.
As they approached, they found Sarah standing with her husband, Mark. The two of them were speaking with Ursula, laughing softly—completely at ease, unaware of the trio heading their way.
"Hey Sarah, long time no see," Lara greeted with a sweet but pointed tone, her eyes scanning Sarah from head to toe, then shifting briefly to Mark. She tilted her head slightly, her smile sharp.
Sarah turned at the sound of the voice. The moment she saw Lara, Allan, and Karl together, her smile faltered for just a second—barely noticeable—but Mark caught it.
Without waiting for Sarah to respond, Lara added in a syrupy tone, "We heard you got married secretly, so we just had to come say hi… and introduce ourselves to your husband."
Her words dripped with forced sweetness, and the way she emphasized secretly wasn't lost on anyone.
Sarah arched an eyebrow, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she smiled—graceful, elegant, unshaken.
"Oh! That's so thoughtful of you guys," she replied with an airy politeness that didn't quite match the sting beneath her words. She turned toward Mark with ease, her arm gently looping through his as if she were anchoring herself to the man who mattered most now.
"Then let me do the honor," she said, voice steady, calm, with just the faintest touch of edge.
She paused, letting the moment breathe. Then, in a voice as light as a breeze but sharp enough to cut glass, she continued:
"Mark, my husband—" she made sure to pronounce the word clearly, glancing at Allan just long enough "—these are my friends. The one with the wine glass is Karl. Next to him is Lara. And the one beside her... is Allan. Lara's boyfriend. And my ex-boyfriend."
She smiled wider, her arm tugging a little closer around Mark's.
The group fell into stunned silence.
Lara blinked.
Karl's eyes darted between everyone, unsure whether to smile or step back.
And Allan… Allan stood still, as if someone had slapped him without lifting a hand. His mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. He felt the weight of Sarah's words land like a physical blow, the sharpness of her correction catching him off guard. She had redefined him in front of everyone with a single statement—her ex, her past, now an afterthought.
Mark, on the other hand, gave a polite nod to each of them. "Nice to meet you all," he said warmly, unfazed, as if the awkward tension hovering in the air didn't exist.
"Nice to meet you too, Mark," Karl suddenly chimed in, breaking the tense silence with his usual lack of filter. Then, with a tone too casual for the weight of his words, he added, "There's been a rumor going around earlier… would you mind clarifying whether it's true, or just gossip?"
The small circle froze.
Lara's smile faltered.
Sarah's brows lifted, curious.
Even Ursula turned her head slightly, her smile tightening.
Karl, oblivious or simply too bold to care, pressed on. "The rumor says you were just a beggar—someone Sarah picked up from under a bridge and decided to marry. Is that true?"
A collective gasp echoed in the silence that followed. The audacity was breathtaking.
All eyes turned to Mark.
Mark didn't flinch. Instead, he smiled—a slow, calm smile—and tilted his head as he studied Karl with interest.
"What do you think?" he asked, voice cool and composed. "Do you think it's true?"
Karl hadn't expected the question to be turned back on him. He blinked, momentarily thrown, then cleared his throat.
"I… I believe it's just a rumor, of course. I mean, how can a man as striking as you be a beggar?" he said with an awkward laugh, trying to recover.
Mark chuckled softly.
Then, without breaking eye contact with Karl, he reached for Sarah's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it with such natural affection that the act itself felt regal.
"But the rumor is true," Mark said calmly. "I was just a beggar under the bridge before my wife found me."
Sarah blushed, her smile gentle but proud. She said nothing—she didn't need to.
Ursula beamed, clearly delighted by the display.
But the others?
Lara stood frozen, her smile brittle, unable to decide if she was impressed, jealous, or completely humiliated. Her mind raced, trying to process the words, the actions. This wasn't just a social nicety; it was a statement. Sarah had turned the tables, claiming a power over the situation that Lara hadn't expected. It made her skin prickle with unease.
Allan wanted the ground to split open and swallow him whole. His chest tightened, the pressure of the room becoming unbearable. He couldn't look at Sarah. Or Mark. Especially not at the way she looked at him now—the confidence in her eyes, the finality in her stance. She was no longer the girl he knew. She had transformed, and he could only watch in silence as that transformation unfolded before him.
And Clara—who had been silent until now—was practically fuming. Her jaw tightened, eyes narrowed, arms folded. The sexy, polished man standing beside Sarah didn't look like a beggar; he looked like something straight out of a billionaire romance novel, and that made everything infinitely worse. Clara's frustration boiled beneath the surface. She had expected to see weakness, but instead, she was witnessing a quiet power. And it unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
"How is that possible… Were you once a billionaire who then went bankrupt?" Karl asked again, this time genuinely curious.
Karl had just asked the question many others wanted to ask but didn't have the courage to.
"Mmh! Something like that," Mark said.
"Oh! That explains everything," Karl replied. "So what do you do now?"
"Me? Nothing. My wife is earning for us, and I take care of her. I cook, wash the dishes, even do the laundry," Mark paused, then continued with a small smile, "But tell you what—my wife really enjoys my food. She even said I'm actually the best cook she has ever seen."
Allan frowned, his voice suddenly sharp. "Do you think it's something to be proud of—staying at home while letting a woman earn for you?"
"Oh, trust me, I really wanted to work," Mark replied calmly. "But my wife wouldn't let me. She insisted I just stay home."
"I had to do that, Allan," Sarah said with a smile. "Have you seen how handsome my husband is? I couldn't afford to lose him."
"Ouch! That hurts my feelings," Mark said dramatically. "Are you saying you don't trust me? That I might cheat on you?"
"Of course not," Sarah replied sweetly. "I trust my husband. I just don't trust the other women out there who might throw themselves at you."
As she spoke, her eyes flicked toward Lara.
Lara caught the glance. She knew Sarah was talking about her—but she couldn't say a word.
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