Chapter 236: Chapter 236: Backing Her Up
The dreamscape shifted from a bedroom to a lavish banquet hall, where a glittering feast unfolded before her eyes.
Wren Sutton was tall, with exquisite, tasteful makeup. She carried herself with a serene and refined air—a poise that was neither servile nor arrogant, exuding a sophisticated beauty.
She wore a limited-edition, haute couture gown in champagne, its skirt rippling like water. Her every movement was graceful and elegant.
This was her first time accompanying Adrian Lancaster to a business gala as Mrs. Lancaster, so she inevitably became the center of attention.
She was a little nervous, but not intimidated by the scene.
A few executives’ wives were chatting together, their voices just loud enough for Wren to overhear.
"Well, she’s young and pretty enough. We all know how she clawed her way up."
"I’ve seen plenty of women like her. They’ll do anything for money."
"A secretary? Hah. What a convenient position to be in. She really lucked out."
"What I don’t get is how a family as distinguished as the Lancasters could let her in the door. Old Mrs. Lancaster must have lost her mind."
"I heard her mom’s a fairly well-known university professor, researches rockets or aircraft carriers or something. Barely middle class, I suppose."
"There are plenty of professors out there. Who knows if that’s even true? Whatever little capital her family has is a joke compared to the Lancasters."
Those gazes, filled with scrutiny and veiled contempt, made Wren Sutton’s back stiffen. The polite smile on her face was about to break.
Before marrying Adrian Lancaster, she had been the apple of her family’s eye.
Although the Sutton family wasn’t as wealthy as the Lancasters, she had grown up carefree and happy. No one had ever talked about her behind her back.
Now, as Mrs. Lancaster, she found herself the target of so much malicious gossip.
Wren’s conscience was clear. She’d never done anything shameful. Marrying into the Lancaster family had been a complete coincidence. In a way, Old Mrs. Lancaster had been the matchmaker between her and Adrian.
’What right did these people have to make such vicious, baseless accusations?’
This was an important occasion, so Wren suppressed her anger and maintained her composure, not wanting to cause trouble for Adrian Lancaster.
However, the others only escalated, taking her silence as an invitation to become even bolder.
"It’s wonderful to be young. Mrs. Lancaster, you’re simply radiant tonight."
The leader of the group, Mrs. Foster, approached Wren. She gently swirled a crystal glass, the amber liquid inside catching the light.
Then, her tone shifted, becoming as casual as if she were discussing the weather. "You know, this whiskey is a bit strong for me. Mrs. Lancaster, would you be a dear and fetch me a glass of soda water? Three lemon slices and two mint leaves, please."
With that, she held the glass out to her.
Wren didn’t take it.
Just then, Mrs. Morgan turned to the side, letting her silk shawl slip slightly from her shoulder.
Without looking back, she merely angled her face and said softly to Wren, "Oh, dear. This shawl just won’t behave. Mrs. Lancaster, would you mind tying it for me? A simple knot at the back of my neck will do. I had my hands done today, so it’s a bit difficult for me to manage."
She held her elegant profile, as if certain Wren would immediately step forward to assist her.
Their companion, Mrs. Wallace, pointed to the exquisitely arranged dessert table nearby.
"The arrangement of those platters is getting rather sloppy. Mrs. Lancaster, you have such a good eye and know so much more. Why don’t you help the staff rearrange them? I’m sure your meticulous work as a secretary makes you far more capable than those clumsy waiters."
"..." Wren stared silently at the three wealthy women before her, a cold glint passing through her eyes.
One wanted her to fetch a specific drink, one wanted her to fix a shawl, and one wanted her to rearrange the food platters.
These requests were sugar-coated with politeness, but they were, in essence, carefully designed to humiliate her.
The surrounding chatter died down. Countless gazes, some subtle and some overt, fell upon her like a spotlight.
"Mrs. Lancaster, did you hear me?"
"Why aren’t you responding? Do you need us to repeat ourselves?"
Wren took a deep breath. The corner of her mouth curled into a knowing, cold smile. She decided she wasn’t going to tolerate this any longer.
’The kind get bullied, and the gentle get trampled.’
"First of all, I’m not hard of hearing. I heard every single word you said, crystal clear."
"Well, since you heard..."
Wren cut her off. "Mrs. Foster, Mrs. Morgan, and you, Mrs. Wallace—do the three of you not have hands or feet? Are you incapable of doing such simple things yourselves?"
"You!" The three women’s expressions changed instantly. No one had ever dared to speak to them that way.
"How dare you insult us! I’m going to teach you a lesson today."
Mrs. Foster, the leader of the trio, had the worst temper and a fragile ego; she couldn’t stand being slighted in the least.
Her face twisted with rage. She took a step forward, cursing, and raised her hand to strike Wren.
Wren dodged the slap, grabbed Mrs. Foster’s wrist, and forcefully flung it away.
"Mrs. Foster, I suggest you show some self-respect. I am Adrian Lancaster’s wife. If you lay a hand on me today, you won’t be able to bear the consequences."
Mrs. Foster staggered back a few steps, nearly falling, which only fueled her rage.
She pointed at Wren and screamed, "Bah! You low-born bitch! We call you Mrs. Lancaster and you really think you’ve gone from a crow to a phoenix? President Lancaster is just toying with you for fun! Sooner or later, he’ll kick you to the curb!"
"Silence!" A bone-chilling voice echoed through the banquet hall.
Adrian Lancaster was walking toward them, a wine glass in his hand.
He exuded the powerful aura of a man in charge, an aura now saturated with menace.
The hall fell deathly silent. The very air seemed to freeze as everyone held their breath.
Adrian Lancaster’s terrifying, ice-cold gaze swept over the three women who had been bullying Wren.
The three women, consumed by guilt, didn’t dare to meet his eyes. They lowered their heads, their gazes darting about evasively.
They might have looked down on Wren, but they would never dare to provoke Adrian Lancaster. They were terrified he would cancel their business partnerships, leaving them to suffer the losses.
"Last October, Leo Morgan knelt in my office for three hours, begging me for a share of the Solara shipping routes."
"In the end, we signed the contract. He told me the entire Morgan family was indebted to me for that favor."
Mrs. Morgan’s face went white as a sheet.
Next, Adrian Lancaster’s sharp gaze shifted to Mrs. Foster.
"Last month, Ethan Foster personally delivered the architectural model for his new factory complex. He told me that for the next twenty years, the Foster Group’s entire livelihood would be tied to orders from the Lancaster Group. And I nodded."
At his words, the delicate wine glass in Mrs. Foster’s hand slipped. It hit the floor with a sharp TINKLE.
The wine spread in a dark red pool at her feet, but she seemed oblivious. Her lips trembled, but no sound came out.
Finally, Adrian Lancaster turned to Mrs. Wallace, who was so pale she looked ready to collapse.
The corner of his mouth twitched into something that wasn’t a smile, but a terrifyingly cold arc.
"Just three days ago, Wyatt Warren was on the phone with me, asking again and again if the Wallace family could get on the supplier list for Phase Two of the tech park project. I gave him the green light."
He paused. His gaze, as precise as a scanner, scraped across their faces one more time, utterly crushing the last vestiges of their forced composure and any lingering hope they might have had.
"It seems I, Adrian Lancaster, have been far too lenient."
With that, he took out his phone, dialed his assistant, and put the call on speaker for the entire room to hear.
The call connected almost instantly.
"President Lancaster."
"Notify the corporate legal and strategic investment departments. Immediately initiate procedures to unilaterally terminate all cooperation with Morgan Shipping, Foster Construction Materials, Wallace Tech, and all of their associated enterprises."
"Enforce the maximum penalty clause for all completed contracts. Void any outstanding agreements immediately."
"I want all the relevant paperwork on my desk by the start of business tomorrow."
The assistant had no idea what was going on, but he did as he was told, not daring to question Adrian Lancaster’s decision.
"Yes, President Lancaster."
"One more thing," Adrian added coldly, a new thought occurring to him. "On my authority, inform all of our associated banks, investment firms, and partners that effective immediately, the Rhodes Group and I, personally, are severing all business ties with the Morgan, Foster, and Wallace families. Any company or individual that continues to work with them will be considered to have automatically forfeited their partnership with the Rhodes Group."
"Understood."
Adrian Lancaster hung up.
"No, President Lancaster, please, be merciful! Spare me this once! I’ll never dare to order Mrs. Lancaster around again, I swear!"
Mrs. Morgan finally found her voice, but it was shattered and laced with desperate sobs.
Mrs. Foster, who had led the charge, swayed on her feet, speechless. Overcome with a mixture of grief and fury, she fainted.
Mrs. Wallace knew she had made a catastrophic mistake. Her legs were too weak to hold her up, her face was ashen, and she struggled to breathe.
Adrian ignored them. He turned to Wren and pulled her into his arms.
His large, warm hand cupped the back of her head, pressing her gently against his solid chest. He used his body to shield her completely from all the shocked, fearful, and complicated stares.
"It’s all right," Adrian murmured, his chin resting gently on the crown of Wren’s head. His voice was low and husky. "It’s all taken care of. No one will ever dare to speak to you like that again."
Wren leaned against his chest and nodded, her feelings a complex mix.
A moment later, seizing the opportunity, Adrian raised his cocktail glass to address the room and set the record straight about Wren.
"Everyone, allow me to take this opportunity to make a formal introduction. This is my wife, Wren Sutton."
"Professionally, she is also my most capable and trusted secretary. Her skills are plain for all to see, and she is a pillar of the Rhodes Group."
"I love my wife very much. I can’t live without her. And I am fiercely protective of my own. Anyone who gives my wife a hard time is giving me a hard time."
"Those women just crossed a line with me. I trust no one else here will be as foolish as they were."
Adrian’s words staked his claim, but more than that, they were a public, wholehearted affirmation of his support for Wren, backing her up and giving her the utmost respect.
Wren stood frozen in place. All her earlier anxiety and hurt vanished, replaced by the deep sense of security and confidence that came from being so staunchly supported.
Having said his piece, Adrian put down his glass and took Wren’s hand.
"Honey, let’s go home. Your feet must be hurting after wearing those heels for so long."
After a few steps, he suddenly swept her up into his arms.
"I’m sure they’re already hurting. I’ll carry you."
