Chapter 150 

What happened?” 

Despite being shy of 20, Sullivan had always been the epitome of composure, a rock in the tumultuous seas of the business world. But what Blanco was about to reveal shattered his facade of calm. 

Bianca whispered. “You agreed to let Cressida have a photo shoot for some keepsake memories! This was supposed to be my responsibility, but with my wedding prep consuming all my time, I delegated it to my assistant. Clueless, the assistant handed over the keys to Duinn Haven to the Baldwin family Cressida did her shoot there this morning and even had the gall to tweet about it. Only the unloved play the other woman–putrageous!” 

Sutivan’s on on his phone turned his knuckles pale. 

Within five seconds, he concocted a plan. “Get in touch with the head honchos over at Twitter, pronto. I don’t care what it costs–have them scrub Cressida’s tweet from the back end! I can’t have Megan see this.” 

Bianca replied honestly. “We can do that. But, the tweet’s already been shared over 100,000 times. Pulling it now is like shutting the bam door after the horse has bolted. Mr. Lowry, Lapologize This is on me.” 

Silence hung heavy in the air. 

After a long pause. Sullivan said, “Do it anyway.” 

Ending the call, he tumed to Megan. 

Megan still stood center stage, bathed in the spotlight, but now her radiance was replaced by a ghostly pallor. 

She saw Cressida’s tweet. She saw those taunting words. It wasn’t the tweet that cut her deep–it was the brazen invasion of her family’s sacred space. Quinn Haven, by Sullivan’s mistress. Cressida, the other woman, had waltzed into the very love nest of Megan’s parents… and Sullivan had allowed it. 

He’d permitted his mistress to parade in a pristine wedding dress within the walls that once echoed Megan’s mother’s laughter, capturing images of mock innocence and seduction. 

Megan’s heart shattered into a million shards. 

For her, for all the Quigleys, it was an unspeakable humiliation. 

A humiliation delivered by Sullivan, the man who incessantly called her Mrs. Lowry, the one who spoke of starting anew, who held her tight and claimed his love. He always said he wanted her affection, her love, but did he really deserve it? 

Megan’s gaze on Sullivan was a mix of alienation and loathing. 

Everything precious to her had been effortlessly destroyed by him. 

What would the world say of her mother now? 

They would say that her mother was useless, allowing the daughter of a chauffeur to trample and shame the family. It was a family tragedy, letting Cressida climb into her son–in–law’s bed for all to see! 

Megan offered a bitter smile, facing the approaching Sullivan. “You know, Cressida isn’t entirely wrong. Only the unloved play the mistress! Sullivan, regardless of our past, I always thought we could move on, that even in divorce, we’d part amicably. After all, we grew up together. But now… now you’ve flaunted your affair for the world to see, trampling me, trampling the Quigleys. Have you no shame? Because I do, Sullivan. My father does!” 

“Megan. 

She slapped Sullivan across his face. “Sullivan, you disgust me!” 

He didn’t react, nor did he attempt to stop her hand. In a gentle tone, he dared to ask, “Are you done?” 

Megan’s chest heaved with emotion as the stage manager approached cautiously. 

“Ms. Quigley, shall we continue the rehearsal?” 

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