Knowing Her Worth

Declan's frantic terror melted into weak dismissal. He let out a pathetic shrug, attempting to defuse the explosive confrontation and treat the shattered atmosphere like a minor nuisance.

"Ease up, Tessa. They are just running their mouths. It is not like they meant to hurt you, so do not make a scene."

A suffocating stillness descended over Tessa. Declan was supposed to be her loyal husband, yet he sat there, pathetic and useless, refusing to raise a single finger to defend her against his friends' brutal insults. A biting, dripping sarcasm took over her voice.

"What is it going to take for you to give a damn about me? Do I need to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness for marrying you? Do not forget, Declan. You were the one who originally got on one knee to beg for my hand in marriage. You asked for this."

A heavy, awkward silence blanketed the table. Declan's friends swapped nervous, tense glances. Naomi’s radiant expression vanished, her lips narrowing into a tight, pale line.

Declan shot out of his seat. He reached across the table and grabbed Tessa’s wrist, his fingers digging into her delicate skin.

"Whatever is eating you, we will sort it out at home. Stop this right now."

Tessa yanked her arm free with obvious disgust, breaking the physical contact as if his touch burned her.

"No way. We are hashing this out right here. And you know what? You and Naomi are a match made in heaven. The cheater and his side chick. Here is to a lifetime of bliss."

Declan's jaw clenched tight. Naomi turned ash white, visibly trembling in her expensive chair.

Brantley slammed his crystal champagne glass onto the tabletop. He lunged to Naomi’s defense, his face twisted in a smug scowl. "Who do you think you are, Tessa, trashing Naomi in public like this? What makes you think you are anything special? You are just a common nobody from a sketchy college, a pathetic orphan with zero to her name. Do you honestly believe Declan is picking you over an accomplished legend like her?"

Freya stormed up beside Tessa, her voice tearing through the ambient restaurant music. "Watch your mouth, Brantley! Sketchy college? Tessa is an elite graduate of the Federal War University!"

The pompous table erupted in roaring, mocking laughter that carried across the dining floor.

"Federal War University? You are seriously trying to sell that hole-in-the-wall community college as FWU?" someone jeered, wiping fake tears from their eyes.

"You and your friend are so full of it, Tessa!" another voice yelled over the noise.

Naomi seized the chaotic moment. She stood up, smoothing her dress, her face returning to a smug, confident mask.

"If you are going to talk big, at least have something to show for it. Faking a degree just makes you a total loser, Tessa."

"Faking a degree? Check the registry yourself, genius!" Freya screamed back, her fists balled at her sides.

Tessa placed a steadying hand on Freya's arm. "I do not need their validation to know my own worth."

Naomi faltered for a fraction of a second. Tessa should have been sweating, caught red-handed in a desperate lie. Yet Tessa stood there, possessing an icy calm that severely unsettled Naomi’s stomach.

Determined to permanently humiliate Tessa, Naomi scanned the dining room and spotted a familiar face walking toward the VIP section, flanked by an imposing entourage.

"Professor Mercer!" Naomi called out loudly, plastering on a bright, fake-sweet smile. "I did not expect you here. Are you grabbing dinner with associates?"

Alden Mercer, a distinguished academic known throughout the elite Preston family circles, paused and gave her a polite nod.

"Naomi, it has been a while."

"You teach at Federal War University, right? It is so funny, someone right here is claiming they are an FWU graduate, but I doubt it. I wonder if you recognize her," Naomi said, her voice dripping with artificial honey and venom as she gestured toward Tessa.

The table snickered, waiting for the esteemed professor to publicly expose Tessa and force her to eat dirt.

Tessa took a graceful step forward. "Professor Mercer, it is good to see you again."

"Oh, she is putting on a real show now!" Brantley scoffed under his breath.

"Acting like she is genuine FWU material. There is no way Professor Mercer knows her."

The taunts died instantly when Alden's face lit up with sheer delight. He bypassed Naomi's smug trap as if she did not exist and beamed directly at Tessa.

"Tessa! I never thought I would run into you here. What has it been, three years?" Alden asked warmly, reaching out to grasp her shoulder.

"Just about three years. Are you holding up okay?" Tessa responded with a light tone.

"Fit as ever. I heard about your folks passing. I am so sorry for your loss," Alden said, his voice dropping into a soft, genuine pitch.

"Thank you." Tessa returned a small, grateful nod.

The group of sycophants, braced for a cruel punchline, sat frozen in their seats. Naomi’s jaw unhinged, her eyes expanding with frantic disbelief.

"Professor, you actually know her?" Naomi stammered out.

"Know her? She is not merely a former student." Alden chuckled softly, looking around the stunned table. "Back in the day, Tessa was Oakhaven City's legendary admissions prodigy. She literally shattered the exact SAT records with a near-perfect score. She caused a total frenzy among our faculty when she finally got accepted."

The color drained from Naomi's smug face as panic set in. Being a state science champion was one thing, but surviving the Federal War University required raw, undeniable brilliance. She had just publicly branded Tessa a loser, only to realize she herself played the ultimate fool.

Declan gaped at his wife in stunned silence. His mind reeled out of control. In three agonizing years of intimate proximity, he never had the slightest clue of his wife's exceptional legacy. She had never mentioned a single word about her academic dominance. He stared at her calm, collected posture, and for the first time, his wife felt like a total stranger.

"Professor Mercer, she is your student?" a smooth, compelling male voice cut through the suffocating silence, pulling everyone’s attention back to the present.

Alden turned to the striking man standing right beside him. "Yes, Vance. Tessa, this is Vance Kensington, CEO of the Kensington Group. Vance, this is my celebrated student, Tessa."

The mention of Vance Kensington hit the remaining table members like a physical thunderbolt. He was the enigmatic, lethal heir who took the helm of the massive Kensington empire. Even securing a brief introduction with him could open doors worth millions. Declan’s friends practically tripped over themselves, their eyes wide with ravenous ambition, yearning to get noticed.

"Ms. Thorne," Vance said, stepping forward to extend his hand in greeting.

Tessa recognized him immediately. He was the striking man standing outside the funeral home earlier today. Up close, without the obscurement of a black umbrella, his sharp features were magnetic. He sported swept-back blond hair, high cheekbones, and deep, dark eyes that resembled a calm, unreadable sea. His polite smile effectively hid whatever intense, calculating thoughts swam beneath the surface.

"Mr. Kensington," Tessa replied, accepting his hand.

The physical contact was striking. His grip was incredibly strong, his fingers long, clean, and steady. He radiated a perilous chill that swept up Tessa's arm. She realized with piercing clarity that his precise hands were just as adept at effortlessly snapping a neck as shaking a palm.

The handshake ended quickly. Declan’s friends were itching to catch Vance's eye, but Vance remained unresponsive to their desperate attention.

"Professor Mercer, let us proceed to the private room," Vance stated smoothly.

Alden nodded, gave Tessa a quick, affectionate pat on the shoulder, and trailed after the dangerous CEO.

Declan scrambled up from his chair the moment the powerful men left. He instantaneously cornered Tessa against the edge of the privacy partition, his imposing frame blocking her path.

"An admissions prodigy? An FWU graduate? Why did you hide this from me for three years?" His voice dropped into a low, irritated hiss, vibrating with defensive anger.

Tessa met his glare with a flat, unbothered wall of ice. She had spent a thousand days catering to his every whim, and he had never bothered to learn who she truly was.

"You never cared enough to ask, Declan. Why does it matter now?"

Before Declan could construct another gaslighting defense, a deafening crack of a gunshot tore through the upscale restaurant.

Pure chaos erupted in an instant. Waiters dropped heavy trays of glassware. Sharp screams tore through the dining room as another barrage of bullets rained down, sparking against the marble pillars. The shooter was specifically targeting Vance's retreating group.

In the violent, terrified scramble, bodies collided as patrons dove under tables. Panic consumed the room. Tessa stumbled forward as someone shoved her aggressively from behind. She lost her footing, her body pitching forward until she nearly slammed her face into the hardwood floor. She caught her balance on the edge of a shattered table and whipped her head around to identify her attacker.

It was Declan.

Through the haze of flying debris and dust, he was frantically pulling Naomi behind a thick decorative wooden screen to safety. When death had seemingly come for them, Declan chose to forcefully shove his own wife directly into the open line of fire just to shield his mistress.

The harsh realization crystalized in Tessa's mind. 'Declan, how many more times are you going to let me down?'

Making eye contact across the shattered glass and overturned chairs, Declan's face flickered with a sudden, sickening jolt of guilt. His eyes darted to Tessa's exposed position. His internal monologue weakly rationalized the horrific act. He convinced himself that he could smooth it over later. Tessa had always been a pushover, an afterthought in his life. A few sweet apologies at home, and she would simply let it go.

But Tessa did not scream. She did not cry out for help or demand an explanation. Her heart turned as cold as absolute zero.

Across the terrifying chaos, she locked onto his cowardly gaze. She kept her face perfectly blank, severing the last invisible thread binding her to the fraudulent marriage. Her lips parted, silently and deliberately shaping words that hit Declan like a physical blow to the stomach.

'Declan, I am done with you.'