Chapter 13: Give Him a Check

“What the fuck!” Monica screamed, quickly kicking Mr. Ronald, who was on top of her. “Mr. Ronald, let me go! Don’t you know who I am? It’s Monica, not Olive!”

President Ronald, seemingly deranged, relentlessly pulled at Monica’s dress. “Little beauty, stop struggling; the more you struggle, the more ecstatic I get.” He laughed hysterically.

“Let go of me! Help, help!!” Monica shouted.

The room’s door burst open, and police officers rushed in. “We received a report of sex trafficking. We’re taking you both to the station for questioning!” the squad leader announced.

The police apprehended Mr. Ronald. Monica frantically buttoned her dress. “What sex trafficking? That’s not true! There’s no need to go to the station.”

“Please, ma’am, cooperate.” The police led them away.

Monica was bewildered, forcibly dragged away. As she passed a bar, a crowd gathered.

In her youth, she had been a famous actress. After marrying Patrick, she gradually retired from the entertainment industry, but remained a respected figure.

“Look, isn’t that Monica?” someone in the crowd recognized her.

“My gosh, what happened? Why is she being taken away?”

“I think the fat man is her lover!”

“Let me video this. This news will definitely sell.”

Over the years, Monica had invested heavily in public relations, maintaining her reputation flawlessly. Now, caught in this situation and photographed by onlookers, her face burned with shame.

Patrick was socializing with executives at a seven-star hotel. The executives inquired, “Mr. Hart, why didn’t your wife come today?”

Monica was well-connected and resourceful. After marrying Patrick, she became his right-hand woman.

Patrick smiled. “My wife is occupied, so she couldn’t come.”

“Mr. Hart, we must commend you; even after all these years, you keep the famous Monica as your assistant. You’re a lucky man,” the Black executive remarked.

Patrick, a lover of fame and prestige, saw his phone ring on the glass table.

“Is that Ms. Monica? We’d like to speak with her to confirm she intentionally missed the meeting, and not because you failed to invite her,” the Black executive added, the others nodding in agreement.

Patrick chuckled, answering the call on speakerphone. “Lico.”

“Hello? This is Patrick Hart? Your wife, Monica, was arrested at a bar, suspected of sex trafficking. Please get her a lawyer immediately.”

Patrick froze.

The CEOs were already checking their phones. News of Monica’s involvement had spread online like wildfire. Netizens commented freely:

“Well, Monica Hart is old; she just wants a good time.”

“What did y’all expect from a former professional mistress? Like a fine wine, Monica improves with age.”

“Monica seemed unhappy in her marriage.”

The executives exchanged glances, then looked at Patrick’s furious face. “You should get her out of there.”

Monica and Mr. Ronald were brought in, distraught. Patrick arrived with a lawyer.

After the lawyer completed the formalities and they were free to go, Patrick said solemnly to Monica, “Let’s go.”

Monica followed him out, pulling his sleeve. “Patrick, this is Olive’s conspiracy. She pretended to agree to the deal, then framed me.”

Patrick looked at her coldly. “So Olive made you and Mr. Ronald cuddle in bed?”

“Yes.”

“Your scandal is trending. Millions of retweets. Did Olive do that too?”

Monica knew the internet would devour the news, but hadn’t expected this. She never imagined a scandal would make such a splash after years in the industry.

“Yes, Olive did this. She was the one…” Patrick raised his hand and slapped her.

Monica fell to the ground. The slap was powerful, splitting her lip. She was stunned; Patrick had always cherished her. This was the first time he’d hit her.

“Patrick, why did you hit me?” she cried, clutching her cheek.

Patrick gritted his teeth, staring menacingly. “Monica, Olive just returned from the orphanage. How could she do this? I’ve loved and adored you for years, and this is how you repay me? You’ve lost everything!”

Monica realized the severity of her offense against Patrick. He valued his reputation so highly; becoming a laughingstock understandably enraged him.

“Don’t mention Mr. Ronald’s name again. We have other things to settle,” Patrick spat angrily, leaving Monica alone.

Monica tasted blood, viciously yelling, “Olive!”

Harry watched, almost clapping. “Bro, your girl is something. I doubt her stepmother will survive this.”

Elvis kept his hands in his pockets, unsurprised. Olive remained a mystery, slowly captivating him.

“I’ll be leaving,” Elvis started to leave, but Gabriella appeared. Unaware of her mother’s situation, her focus was on Elvis. She produced a check. “This money is for you. I want you to be my gigolo and stay away from Olive.”