My Fiancé Woke Up Obsessed With My Best Friend

Chapter 6

Vanessa finally realized the gravity of the situation and panic spread across her face. Her voice wavered as she stammered, "T–This ring… I took it from a filthy wench. She's just some washed-up slut no one wants, claiming to be your consort and dragging around two little bastards she says are your sons. I couldn't stand her arrogance, so I taught her a lesson—she needed to know that someone like her has no right to sully your name!"

"Whore? Two bastards?" Charles repeated, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy tone.

His fingers tightened around the ring, his face darkening by the second.

Vanessa, still completely unaware of the storm she'd unleashed, pressed on. Meanwhile, Lorenzo awkwardly rubbed his face, horrified. A noblewoman, unmarried and raised in high society, was now spitting out terms like "whores" and "bastards" in front of a foreign prince? For the first time, Lorenzo truly questioned his choices.

Vanessa, he realized, was good for two things—fluttering her lashes and moaning in bed. Beyond that? Nothing. If Danna had been in this situation, she would've never made a spectacle of herself like this. She knew when to play her cards and never faltered in her poise. And despite all the gossip, Danna had never been involved in anything dirty or scandalous. As the crowd's expressions shifted, Vanessa remained clueless, still so smug in her own righteousness.

"Don't worry, Your Highness," Vanessa continued, her tone dripping with pride. "I've already punished her properly. She'll never dare speak your name again. I slashed her face—she won't be seducing anyone now. And that little bastard? He hit his head on the champagne tower. He probably won't survive."

Her grin was wide and self-satisfied. "Everyone here saw it. They can testify for me."

Her eyes swept across the room, but all she saw were heads bowed and eyes averted.

Yet, she still didn't get it. Clinging to Lorenzo's arm, she looked up at him with a grin. "Isn't that right, Loren? That little tramp deserved it. How dare she even think about seducing Prince Charles?"

Lorenzo's face had turned an ashen gray. The years of experience in high society had never prepared him for a moment like this, and panic was rising in his chest.

For the first time, he felt disgust and anger toward Vanessa—he was ashamed of himself for ever getting involved with her. If it weren't for her, he would never have treated Danna the way he did, nor would he have made such a fool of himself in front of royalty.

"Shut up!" Lorenzo snapped, his voice sharp with irritation.

Vanessa blinked, taken aback, her smile faltering for a split second. She pouted, then shot back, "Loren, I did it for you. Do you really want to be dragged down by that tramp?" She turned back to Prince Charles, a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face. "Your Highness, I only punished a woman who dared to smear your name. I'm a simple person—I don't care about gold or jewels. My fiancé is the wealthiest man in New York, after all. I hope you'll take good care of him in the future."

Her smile twisted as she added, "And as for that whore—slashing her face was too kind. We should've broken her legs and thrown her out on the street to serve the homeless."

Lorenzo nearly fainted from the shock. How had he ever chosen a woman like this?

Charles's face was now flushed with fury. His emerald-green eyes had turned black as midnight, pure rage written in every inch of his expression.