Chapter 70 My Only Wife is Sloane
Sloane's POV
I turned around and met Jared's unfathomably deep eyes.
He gripped me tightly, with such force it felt like he was going to crush my bones, not giving me any chance to escape.
"Let go." I lowered my voice, practically squeezing out these two words through clenched teeth.
But he remained unmoved. Instead, he pulled me even closer to him.
He looked around at everyone at the table with their different expressions, his gaze finally landing on Aeneas's livid face, his voice cold without a trace of warmth.
"I only brought Keira here at the request of the elders," he said calmly, taking in everyone's shock, "but I never said I would marry her."
With that, he suddenly raised our clasped hands, the gesture like announcing an undeniable truth.
"My wife, from beginning to end, has only ever been Sloane."
A sharp sound rang out as Aeneas violently swept the wine glass in front of him to the floor. Crimson wine and glass shards splattered everywhere in a complete mess.
"You bastard!" Aeneas trembled with rage, pointing at Jared's nose and shouting, "What the hell are you doing! For such a woman who can't even show her face in public, you're going to destroy the friendship between our two families!"
But the first to break down was Keira.
She looked at Jared in disbelief, tears falling like broken beads, "Jared... you lied to me... you clearly promised me... what about all your past promises?"
Jared finally spared her a glance, but his eyes held only cold annoyance.
He mercilessly shook off Keira's hand as she tried to grab his sleeve, his tone as decisive as a knife.
"That was out of pity for you, Keira. I hope you face reality and stop disturbing my life."
This sentence destroyed Keira. She buried her face in her hands and screamed, all composure gone.
This scene made Isabelle's face turn extremely ugly.
She suddenly stood up, walked around the table, and raised her hand to slap me across the face, cursing, "You shameless bitch, this is all because of you..."
Her hand was stopped mid-air. Jared moved to block me, his tall figure like an impenetrable wall, protecting me completely.
He grabbed Isabelle's wrist, his eyes frighteningly dark.
He spoke coldly, with a chilling sense of pressure, "Have you forgotten who insisted on arranging this marriage in the first place?"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over each Montclair family elder present, finally landing back on Isabelle's face twisted with anger, then suddenly asked a question that caught everyone off guard.
"Or is the reason you're so eager to arrange my marriage with her because Sloane isn't your daughter?"
As soon as these words came out, the entire private room fell deathly silent.
I looked up at Jared in shock, completely unable to understand why he would suddenly ask this.
Isabelle's reaction was even more bizarre. The color drained from her face instantly, and the way she looked at me was no longer simple contempt, but mixed with panic, confusion, and a kind of... thick, undiluted malice and hatred.
"You... what nonsense are you talking about!" She seemed like someone had stepped on her sore spot, her voice changing pitch as she yanked her hand back.
Just as things were about to spiral out of control, Arthur finally stepped in. He moved to Jared's side and gripped his shoulder, trying to calm him down.
"Jared, don't be impulsive." Arthur frowned, glancing at Keira who was crying uncontrollably, then at my pale face, and began to analyze the pros and cons calmly, "You should know how important the alliance with the Winslow family is for Montclair Corporation. Keira is devoted to you, this marriage benefits everyone."
Arthur was trying to pull this scene back to rational ground.
The "benefits" he spoke of were built entirely on sacrificing me.
I thought Jared would at least be somewhat moved, after all, this was what he valued most before—profit.
But he just laughed coldly, that laugh carrying unprecedented contempt and disdain, "Benefits?" He shook off Arthur's hand, his gaze sharp as a knife, sweeping over each elder present, "Since when does Jared Montclair's marriage need to rely on selling out his wife for profit?"
He fixed his gaze once again on Isabelle's pale face, repeating that earth-shattering question, each word like a heavy hammer striking everyone's heart. "I'll ask you one more time, the reason you're so eager to deny this marriage—is it because you know in your heart that Sloane... isn't your daughter at all?"
"Shut up!"Isabelle's fist hit the table. Her voice came out shrill and sharp, "Jared, have you lost your mind? What nonsense are you spouting here? Sloane is my daughter, this marriage was a mistake from the start!"
Her denial was pale and panicked, and in those eyes looking at me, besides contempt, there was added fear and malice I couldn't understand.
Jared ignored her hysteria.
He just held me tighter, as if I were a treasure he had lost and found again.
He finally looked at Keira, crying pitifully, and Aeneas with his livid face, and delivered his final ultimatum.
"I'm making this clear today," his voice wasn't loud, but carried undeniable finality, "if anyone tries to connect Keira Winslow with me again in the future, I will immediately terminate all cooperation projects between Montclair Corporation and the Winslow family. I mean what I say."
With that, he didn't give anyone a chance to react, gripping my wrist and pulling me away.
"Jared! Stop right there!" Aeneas's roar exploded behind me.
Jared's footsteps didn't pause for a moment. His tall, retreating figure was as resolute as a wall, shutting out all the filth and scheming behind us.
It wasn't until we walked out of that suffocatingly luxurious restaurant and the cool evening breeze hit me that my confused mind regained a trace of clarity.
I looked at his hand gripping mine tightly, then up at his cold, tense profile, my heart churning with turbulent waves.
Was this the Jared I knew?
Today he actually didn't hesitate to go against his entire family for me.
I really couldn't understand what had happened in these few short days that could cause such an earth-shattering change in him.
He pulled me to the parking lot, stopping in front of a black Bentley.
There was no one around, only the cold moonlight and streetlights interweaving, casting our shadows in flickering light and darkness.