She Left She Thrived She’s Worth Billions novel Chapter 842

Daphne flinched, her eyes darting away.

"Look... we were both wasted. It was just the alcohol talking..." she said, forcing a casual, breezy tone.

She was desperate to maintain her usual tough-girl persona. Yes, she had lost her virginity, but Everett was so drunk he surely couldn't remember the details. She was a street-smart woman who had seen her fair share of the gritty side of life. So she slept with a guy—it wasn't the end of the world. She wasn't about to cling to him and demand he take responsibility. It was better to play it cool and act like it meant nothing.

"Just pretend it never happened. We're adults, it was just a one-night stand..."

"So I really did..." Everett's eyes widened in sheer horror. His voice shook uncontrollably.

Originally, Daphne had made peace with the situation. What happened, happened. She wasn't going to obsess over it.

But right now, staring across the table, she saw the sheer, crushing weight of regret drowning Everett's eyes.

He wasn't regretting that he had drunkenly taken her virginity.

He was agonizing over the fact that he had slept with a woman he didn't love.

He was in pain because he felt like he had betrayed his feelings for Melanie.

The realization hit Daphne like a physical blow to the chest. A sharp, suffocating ache bloomed in her ribs, and hot tears instantly pricked her eyes.

She abruptly stood up to leave, but Everett cried out, "Wait! Please, just wait..."

Daphne slowly sank back into her chair, a pathetic, inexplicable glimmer of hope sparking in her chest. She couldn't even articulate what she was hoping for.

She watched as Everett frantically dug into his briefcase, finally pulling out a thick, heavy stack of hundred-dollar bills.

Daphne stared at the money, utterly blindsided.

Melanie walked elegantly through the grand doors, her arm linked perfectly with Preston's.

Technically, she hadn't been invited to the gala. But with Preston by her side, securing a golden ticket had been effortless.

He hadn't just handled the flights and the invitations—he had meticulously arranged her breathtaking evening gown and the millions of dollars in diamonds dripping from her neck.

"You're so thorough. You really are cut out to be an assistant," Melanie teased, unable to hide her amusement.

"Only when I'm yours," Preston murmured, his voice low and possessive.

Melanie offered a small, radiant smile. But as her eyes scanned the opulent ballroom, they abruptly locked onto a very familiar face in the crowd.

Leila Langley.