Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption

Jessica walked quietly back into the grand hall. The music had softened, and the lights glowed gently over the large crowd of guests.

Several business investors and executives mingled with each other. Discussing business deals and setting up new partnerships.

In the background, soft music floated as the MC was discussing with the manager the next show to come up.

But for Jessica, all these faded into insignificance as her sharp gaze moved across the room, observing the faces in the crowd—flattery smiles, waiting ears and plotting minds. She sighed.

Once she reached her table, she sank into her seat with poise, her expression hidden but her fingers clasped over another in contemplation of the next course of action to take.

After her confrontation with Tricia in the garden, she knew things might take a different turn at any point and with the first rumour not clarified it might be more troublesome to clarify later when another storm hits.

Tricia’s offer, her anger, and her insult were still fresh in Jessica’s mind. She knew Tricia wouldn’t take rejection lightly, especially not after being exposed in her own game. But Jessica was no longer playing defensively, she had a sense of resolution within her.

She picked up her champagne glass but didn’t drink. Instead, she scanned the faces seated at various tables.

A few notable investors, press members, and foreign dignitaries remained focused on the ongoing program, others exchanged low whispers with their associates, quietly evaluating the situation.

But Jessica noticed something else: some of the new investors had begun to step in, holding the attention of key guests, making conversation, and keeping the launch alive and steady.

That was good.