Chapter 482
Chapter 482:
Ashton: [Last-minute decision. Wanted to see you p>
Me: [Where are you now p>
Ashton: [Outside p>
I glanced at the doors.
They were still shut.
Jean-Baptiste cleared his throat, loud and pointed. “Weren’t phones banned during the presentation p>
Fabrizio answered before I could. “There’s no such rule p>
Jean-Baptiste snorted. “Maybe not officially, but it’s understood. Phones mean photos. Photos mean leaks.” His eyes landed on me.
My phone was still in my hand.
Everyone caught the implication.
I locked the screen and placed it face down on the table.
“I didn’t take any photos. My phone’s silent; I wasn’t disturbing anyone. You, on the other hand, just interrupted the presentation p>
“You say you didn’t take photos,” he sneered, “and we’re just supposed to believe that p>
“You can check my phone,” I said evenly. “If there’s a single photo from today, I’ll apologize publicly. If not, you apologize and prepare for a defamation lawsuit p>
Jean-Baptiste opened his mouth—
“Excuse me!” the host interrupted, staring past the rear doors. “Our honored guest has arrived p>
All heads turned.
Ashton walked in, suited as always, his expression unreadable.
Two assistants followed, one step behind.
He strode past Jean-Baptiste, then paused.
Your next chapter is here gαℓησνℯ𝓁s․com
“I’m the one she was messaging,” he said, his voice low but carrying. “Mirabelle Vance is my wife p>
Jean-Baptiste went crimson.
He shot a desperate glance at the man beside him, who refused to meet his eyes.
Ashton had already moved on.
He reached my side, took my wrist, and pulled me to my feet. The host approached, smiling far too widely, hand outstretched.
Ashton ignored it.
He scanned the room.
“I heard good things about this panel, which is why I dropped in. But clearly, the praises were overstated. My wife came here to learn, to exchange ideas with what are, supposedly, some of the industry’s best. She didn’t come to be falsely accused without evidence p>
He took my hand and started walking.
The host’s voice rose behind us, panicked. “Mr. Laurent, I must apologize—” The rest was cut off as the door swung shut.
“I might’ve wanted to stay,” I said, half-grumbling.
Ashton didn’t pause. “I know the organizer. They’ll send over the slides later if you like p>
The 100k he gave me held enough heat to scorch.