Chapter 17 Targeted and Framed
Elizabeth had spent the night in the same bedroom as Armando, the two of them keeping to their own sides of the bed, silent and detached.
Early the next morning, as soon as the marriage office opened its doors, they walked in together and signed the divorce papers. A ridiculous marriage of convenience had ended exactly as anyone might expect.
"Remember not to let Grandma find out," Armando warned, his tone clipped. "We're going to pick her up from the hospital."
"That's something I should be telling you," Elizabeth shot back. "You'd better keep it discreet with Sherry when you're out in public. She's a celebrity—she attracts the press like moths to a flame."
Armando's cool gaze flicked over her once, but he said nothing more.
Her pride held—until Calista Penrose's name flashed on her phone. She answered.
"Mom."
"So you do remember you have a mother. When did you marry Mrs. Johnson? And you never told the family? Tomorrow, you'll bring Mrs. Johnson home so we can have dinner together." Calista's voice was sharp, her irritation obvious. A marriage was no small thing, and she couldn't believe Elizabeth had kept it from them.
Elizabeth drew in a deep breath, steadying her tone. "That's the Howard family's home, Mom. I'm not taking him there."
Before she turned eight, Elizabeth had lived with Calista, the two of them scraping by. Then Calista sent her to an orphanage. Seven years later, already married into the Howard family, Calista showed up one day to take her back. Even now, Elizabeth didn't know whether to hate her mother or thank her.
"You won't bring him? Then I'll come to you," Calista pressed. "You've loved him for years. Now that you're finally married, you need to cherish it."
Once, Calista had visited and happened to see Elizabeth's diary lying open on the table. Every page had been about Armando. She'd understood her daughter's heart.
The car was quiet. Elizabeth suspected Armando had overheard. She cut her mother off before the conversation could go further. "Mom, I'll visit another day. I'm busy now." She hung up.
Armando's voice was cool, edged with mockery. "Why does everyone think you're madly in love with me?"
"That was in the past," she said evenly.
There had been a time when he was all she saw. That ended the day he handed her over to Michael.
A woman could fall in love in a heartbeat… and fall out of it just as fast.
Two days after Bronte left the hospital, the Johnson family hosted a banquet at the Carlton Hotel to formally introduce Elizabeth. By nightfall, the place was alive with the city's elite. Luxury cars glided in and out beneath the lights.
Elizabeth had been dressed by a professional team, her neck adorned with a necklace worth over a hundred million dollars—a gift from Bronte. She had never worn anything so opulent.
Bronte's health kept her from staying long. After introducing Elizabeth to the guests, she left, asking Armando to take her around.
Men clustered together to talk business. Women gathered in their own circles.
"This Ms. Penrose is something else… a textbook case of marrying into money from nowhere. Even the Johnsons acknowledge her."
"Keep an eye on your husband's secretary."
"The Johnson family agreed to this?"
"What's wrong with her background?"
Some hadn't done their homework.
"She's only the Howard family's stepdaughter. You know what they do?"
"No."
"They own a chain of supermarkets."
They laughed behind their hands.
"Don't underestimate her. Ms. Penrose owns ten percent of the Johnson Group."
The laughter faded. Ten percent was no small stake—the Johnson Group ranked in the top ten of the nation's largest companies. Her share brought in billions each year.
Envy simmered.
Elizabeth followed Armando, accepting congratulations—"A perfect match," "You two look wonderful together."
"Excuse me," she murmured, slipping away. She'd had enough. They were divorced now; keeping up appearances had its limits.
Sherry was there too, invited by Mindy. Standing in the corner, she listened to the women's chatter, her emotions churning. When she saw Elizabeth leave the hall, she followed.
Elizabeth emerged from the restroom and froze for a moment at the sight of Sherry. The Johnsons had invited her tonight? Perfect.
She tried to walk past, but Sherry called out.
"Elizabeth, feeling proud of yourself?"
Elizabeth didn't stop. Proud of what? Armando didn't love her. Everything she had now was hollow.
Maybe the gossip had gotten under Sherry's skin. She grabbed Elizabeth's arm.
Her face was tight with restraint, voice catching. "If Mrs. Johnson didn't like you, do you think you'd be standing next to Armando tonight?"
Elizabeth's smile was cool. "So? If you've got what it takes, make her like you. And I've never stopped you from being with Armando. In our world, couples live their own lives. Isn't that right, Miss Scott?"
Tears spilled down Sherry's cheeks. Elizabeth didn't soften. She pulled her arm free.
For some reason, Sherry clung harder. Elizabeth tugged again, and Sherry stumbled, falling to the floor with a cry.
"Elizabeth! What the hell?"
Mindy rushed over, eyes flashing at Elizabeth as she helped Sherry up. "Are you okay?"
Pain shot through Sherry's ankle. She bit her lip. "I twisted it… it hurts."
Mindy's expression darkened. She made a call for Armando.
"Mindy, it's not Miss Penrose's fault," Sherry said quickly. "I grabbed her and lost my balance."
"Don't defend her. I saw her push you."
Sherry's face was pale, her posture fragile. Elizabeth stood tall in her gown, eyes cold. "Mindy, are you deaf? She just said she lost her balance. What's that got to do with me?"
Armando arrived to find Elizabeth mid-retort.
"What happened?" His brow furrowed. "Sherry, are you hurt?"
His gaze swept over Elizabeth, sharp.
Elizabeth's patience snapped. Trouble had landed on her out of nowhere. Everyone was glaring at her as if she were some villain.
"Armando, Elizabeth pushed Sherry. She twisted her ankle," Mindy accused. "She shoved her hard."
Armando's frown deepened. "Elizabeth, this isn't the time or place for a scene."