Secret Wife Real Billionaire (by Ela) novel Chapter 46

Chapter 46 A good lesson

*MARCELO

I have my schedule memorized by me because I am someone who rarely forgets things. After I left the styling. attended an international conference.

There, I sternly rebuked each participant.

I was a man of few words, my reprimands were often non–verbal.

My stare alone left many wondering what they’d done wrong. They were utterly baffled, Jason visited KM Group to

see me.

He sighed. “Marcelo, are you in a foul mood these days? Your executives are all complaining to me, accusing you of being heartless.”

Their complaints weren’t entirely serious, I was sure.

They just knew of Jason’s close ties to me and hoped he might uncover if they had inadvertently offended me, leading to my aloofness.

I glanced up, uninterested. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Yeah.” Jason settled in a chair across from me. “Well, I need to enjoy the perks of being a boss. I guess you don’t relate to that kind of pleasure.”

He then quipped, “Sorry, forgot you don’t understand such joys.”

Impatient, I retorted, “If it’s not important, leave.”

In essence, if Jason had something significant, he should speak up.

“Having a trouble with your wife? Hermès just released some exclusive leather bags. Women love them, and they’re great for making peace!” Jason ventured.

I grimaced.

A Hermes bag?

Perhaps it was less effective than a simple, inexpensive street–side hot chocolate.

Jason squirmed under my intense look. He quickly divulged “Luke told me you and your wife argued! It’s odd; Renee seems so even–tempered. How did you upset her? Let me know, and I can help you sort it out”

I pondered what Jason meant by upsetting Ellie“.

I subtly gestured towards the door with my chin, a clear signal for him to leave.

Jason, with a resigned smile and an “OK” gesture, quickly exited.

He had a company and how dare he always lecture me about being a good husband.

He wasn’t even married himself.

The office fell silent.

I then opened his right–hand drawer, retrieving two auction invitations.

He called Luke, instructing, “Tell Renee to join me at the auction tonight.”

*RENEE*

“An auction?” Hearing about the auction, Rence eyed the evening gown Luke offered but didn’t accept it. “I don’t have time,” she firmly declined.

Luke, still holding the gown, persisted, “Mrs. King, Naomi’s condition is stable. Mr. King has informed the Hudson to take over her care. You can rest assured. And remember, whether you are KM Group’s collaborative stylist and Mrs. King, Mr. King has the right to invite you.

His words had multiple meanings.

”

Firstly, with Rocco and his wife arriving, I would have to confront them if I stayed, an unwelcome prospect. Secondly, my refusal might provoke Marcelo to leverage her role as a collaborative stylist.

But the Hudsons can’t take care of Nana as much as I could.

I guess I would have to leave her for a few hours.

I scoffed. “Marcelo has taught you well.”

Feigning ignorance to her sarcasm, he replied, “Mrs. King, that’s too kind.”

In the distance, a familiar Bentley approached.

It was Rocco’s car.

My frown deepened, not expecting the Hudson’s to arrive se promptly.

I dreaded meeting them, yet I knew Nana would like to see them.

She took every one of the Hudson’s as family.

“I’m not fond of this gown’s designer, “I commented, glancing briefly at the box before closing it.

My chin remained unlifted, yet my stance radiated dignity and defiance.

My distaste for the designer meant I naturally disliked the gown as well.

The gown was a limited edition from this year’s new haute couture collection, highly coveted. Yet, in my view, it merited only a dismissive “dislike.”

Like, catching on to my preference, smiled and offered, “KT’s owner is well–acquainted with Mr. King. Mrs. King, please feel free to choose a gown to your liking.”

Π

KT was a premier styling studio the city, typically serving elite clientele and A–list actresses.

Located in a distinctive building downtown, its entrance currently displayed a “closed” sign.

Luke escorted me inside, leading

Me upstairs.

We were met by a young man in his twenties, with ash–gray hair and a trendy, avant–garde outfit.

“This is Pierre.“Luke introduced him briefly.

I was familiar with the fashion industry and I recognize Pierre’s stature.

A celebrated young designer with numerous accolades by twenty–five, he was regarded as a rising star in fashion. Pierre extended a friendly greeting, bowing gracefully. “Miss, please choose any gown here. What style do you

26

prefer? I’m glad to be of service to such a beauty like you.”

“No, thank you,“I declined, raising myhand. “I’ll find something myself.”

Preferring not to have others dictate my appearance,me, a stylist myself, trusted in my ability to craft a look that was both satisfying and comfortable.

In under an hour, I had clad myself in an outfit that was both comfortable and stylish

Upon Marcelo’s arrival,his gaze found Renee by the expansive window, her eyes set on the busy street below. She was adorned in a captivating gradient purple gown, her haft elegantly curled and swept to the left, embodying both grace and practicality.

Her face, lightly touched with makeup, exuded a natural charm and a certain untouchable allure, as if she was meant to be admired from afar.

Outside the window, the world bustled with hurried lives and worldly pursuits. Amidst this whirl of activity, Renee stood serene and detached, as if in a world of her own.

Marcelo was reminded of the opinions he’d heard about Refee from his social circle.

She was perceived as detached from worldly affairs, unique in her essence.

She was a living embodiment of a dream.

“Miss, you’re a true inspiration, “Pierre gushed, his eyes sparkling with admiration. “Your beauty and impeccable taste are evident. You epitomize understated elegance.” He was effusive in his praise. “May I have your contact? W

**p, perhaps? It would be an immense honor!”

Marcelo’s expression darkened slightly at this.

“Mr. King, “Luke called out, noticing Marcelo.

Renee turned, her eyes landing on Marcelo, who sat in his wheelchair. He was impeccably dressed in a charcoal gray suit, his face an unreadable mask. His eyes swept over her, betraying no clear emotion.

This was Renee’s first time locking eyes with him since their disagreement.

Her gaze was cool and detached, akin to a business associate’s, a far cry from the protective stance she had taken at the Kings‘ family house.

“Mr. King, attending the auction with me might damage your reputation,” Renee cautioned.

In their exclusive social circle, where only a select few were privy to such events, everyone was aware of the truth about Renee not being the true Hudson heir.

Before Marcelo could respond, Pierre interjected, puzzled, Miss, your presence would only enhance the event’s prestige. How could it be a disgrace?”

Pierre was very persistent and said to Renee, “Can contact?We should chat more.”

I have your W*

Luke, witnessing this exchange, was at a loss for words.

He sensed Marcelo’s growing annoyance, though Pierre seemed oblivious.

Renee found Pierre’s earnestness both amusing and endearing. Given their shared industry, she saw potential for future collaboration and agreed, “Certainly, you can have it.”

16

As Rence reached for her phone to access W******p, Marcelo swiftly took it from her hand, locking the screen. He turned to Pierre, his expression blank. “Are you bored in this city? I could send you back to the countryside.” Pierre recoiled, fearing the implications. “No! If I return, I be dragged into family farming business. I won’t go

back.”

Marcelo gave Pierre a frosty look, then signaled Renee to follow him as he wheeled away.

Renee, puzzled by Marcelo’s behavior, realized something Pierre, celebrated in the fashion world, was also under Marcelo’s influence.

“Luke, why do I feel like Mr. King is picking on me? Did I upset him?“Pierre asked quietly, perplexed.

Luke rolled his eyes.Pierre’s request for Marcelo’s wife’s contact in Marcelo’s presence was bound to stir discontent. He was fortunate Marcelo hadn’t reacted more strongly.

“Bear in mind, Miss Hudson is with Mr. King now.She is off limits to you and any other man.“Luke advised Pierre in a hushed tone.

Pierre responded with an air of innocence and conviction, had no ill intentions. I was simply admiring beauty.”

Luke sighed inwardly, realizing the futility of offering counsel to someone who couldn’t grasp the nuances.

Marcelo chose his Bentley for the evening’s transport.

Renee, sharing the ride but not the conversation, busied herself with her phone.

A post about the Dove Island Club caught her eye, bringing back unpleasant memories. As she scrolled to move on, something in the photo halted her.

The club’s hall, the high platform, the dancer, and the lack of glass above.

Last time, from the third floor, she could see everything below, but it seemed the reverse wasn’t true.

A realization dawned on Rence: it must have been one–way glass.

Startled, she glanced at Marcelo, quickly averting her eyes before he could notice her looking.

She realized that he didn’t actually make anyone to watch her dance.

The auction took place in a prestigious mansion in the city center.

As evening descended, the mansion’s exterior sparkled with luxury cars and a stream of elegantly dressed attendees.

Marcelo, restrained yet prominent in his wheelchair, made his appearance.

Stepping out of the car, Renee sensed eyes on her – some curious, others mocking

“Shoot! Can you believe Renee’s here? She’s naturally beautiful, beyond what plastic surgery could achieve.”

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