Rise To Power: Death To My Billionaire Husband

Chapter 24: Familiar Faces At Restaurant

That was actually all she wanted, but her fiance was the son of a powerful man with connections, and she, her family were rich, yes, but they didn’t have connections. They were new money.

She didn’t think that revenge was possible. Her boyfriend, Clifford, was a playboy, who ’repented’ because he loved her ’too’ much. She and her influencer friends supported his father with her platform during the election, even though his parents didn’t like her.

After Mr. Marshall won the election, everything changed. The governor’s wife slid a check over the table to Tessa, demanding she broke up with her son.

The thick-skinned woman even claimed that her husband didn’t need Tessa’s help to win the governorship election.

Tessa tried to reason with Clifford, only to find out that her dear boyfriend used her for her fame. He never really changed his old ways. He was just too good at playing the game.

Tessa knew she couldn’t win even if she dragged that family to the public. She might even suffer, so she broke up quietly, only to discover that she might be infected with STDs.

The silence stretched again, thick with unspoken judgments. She didn’t tell Anita anything, but she was smart enough to know that Tessa carried scars in her heart.

Finally, Anita’s posture softened just a fraction.

"Fine," she said, voice low but resolute. "You want in, prove you’re more than just a name on a screen. Show me you can keep your mouth shut, your feet moving quietly, and your head clear. Then maybe... we’ll talk."

Tessa’s head snapped up, eyes brimming with hope. "What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything. Anything."

Anita didn’t speak. Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out her card. "Here, call me once your test result is out."

Simultaneously, the door to the back office creaked open, and a nurse poked her head out. "Mrs. Blackwood? Dr. Moore will see you now."

Anita rose smoothly, the picture of grace and composure. And walked away without looking back.

It wasn’t clear what Anita was building yet, but she was definitely setting a foundation. Brick by brick.

...

By the time Anita left the hospital, it was well into the afternoon. The sun hung high, casting a harsh glare over the glossy hood of her black SUV as she drove through the streets of Greenville.

The city bustled around her, but Anita felt detached, floating above it all, composed and unreadable behind designer sunglasses.

She didn’t head home.

Instead, she turned into the private lot of Sapphire Bistro, one of the fine-dining restaurants in Greenville. The type of place with valet-only parking, crystal chandeliers, and a three-month waiting list...unless, of course, your name was Anita White turned Wales Blackwood or other big names in the city. Then a table would always be available, even at a moment’s notice.

The valet didn’t even ask her name. He simply nodded and opened the door with practiced grace.

Inside, the air was cool and fragrant with rosemary and butter. A hostess smiled tightly and guided her to a secluded corner table by the window. A private, quiet, and facing away from the main floor. Perfect for a woman who didn’t want curious eyes on her but still expected the best view.

Anita ordered without glancing at the menu. "Lemon-roasted sea bass. Arugula salad. Pellegrino with lemon."

As the server left, she finally exhaled.

The weight of the day settled like lead in her bones.

She didn’t touch her phone. Didn’t check messages. Not yet. She simply sat back, crossing her legs elegantly, and stared out the window at the couples laughing, the suits rushing past, the mothers wheeling strollers with tired smiles.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her hand subconsciously drifted to her stomach – where a baby once sat, once grew, once gave her hope. Her fingers curled slightly, just as the sound of a too-familiar voice slithered into her peace like poison

"Aunty, you flatter me."

"You’re too polite, child. Haha!" she laughed loudly.

No etiquette.

Anita didn’t need to turn around. She knew that voice. Linda and Eleanor Blackwood, her mother-in-law. Queen of passive aggression. Regal, cold, always perfectly composed – Eleanor wished she was any of those. But unfortunately...

This saying: You can take a rat out of the gutter, but you can’t take the gutter out of the rat.

Couldn’t be any truer with this woman.

Eleanor dressed like royalty, spent money like she drank water, that was all she had. No class, no... At least, not good enough, compared to Anita’s late mother.

Eleanor and Linda were escorted to a table not far from Anita’s. Linda’s eyes swept the restaurant like a hawk’s and landed on Anita.

Her gaze trembled for a fleeting moment before she schooled her expression and smiled, turning back to Mrs. Blackwood.

Meeting Anita here was a coincidence, but since they met here, perhaps, this could be the beginning of the end of her ’happy’, ’perfect’. ’one-in-million’ marriage with David. She couldn’t wait for them to get a divorce. And if she had to help things along, so be it.

She’d even tried to subtly bring it up with Mrs. Blackwood but the woman frowned with displeasure. She warned her not to cross Anita, and that she could wait quietly and let David handle everything.

David also told her to calm down and leave everything to him. But Linda has no patience for all that. She didn’t know why David was hesitating...unless he still loved the barren woman.

Well, Anita could continue living in her fantasy bubble as David’s one and only love and woman, until Linda gives birth to David’s first child. Then, she’d make sure Anita had no place left – not in David’s life, and not in the Blackwood legacy.

Linda’s smile tightened as she picked up the menu, pretending to read. Every second Anita remained in that marriage felt like an insult. A delay. A threat.

But time was on Linda’s side, or rather, biology was. But the same couldn’t be said for Anita, who was quickly approaching menopause.

She suddenly chuckled, drawing Mrs. Blackwood’s attention.

"The food here is very nice." the older woman said, thinking that Linda’s giggle was because of the menu.

"You’re right, Mother," she smiled.

Mrs. Blackwood, unaware of Linda’s thoughts, smiled at her.