The Billionaire Ex-Wife and the Beggar He Became novel Chapter 71

Winona was speechless.

Without another word, the two security guards seized her by the arms and began dragging her out.

Every pair of eyes at the charity gala bore into her, sharp and cold as needles.

As she was hauled toward the exit, Winona spotted Xander in the crowd.

The look Xander gave her said it all: *You brought this on yourself.* Yet, beneath the judgment, there was a fleeting trace of pity, the kind reserved for the hopeless.

Then she saw Mackenzie.

Mackenzie's gaze was far colder—merciless, even. His lips curled into a poisonous smile as he watched her get dragged away, relishing every moment of her humiliation.

Just as she was shoved through the doors, Winona caught sight of one more familiar face.

Yves Prescott.

His expression was different from the others. There was no righteous condemnation like Xander's, nor any cruel delight like Mackenzie's. Instead, Yves looked at her as if she were nothing more than an unsightly stain—something to be brushed away.

He didn't look angry. In fact, there was almost a faint smile playing on his lips. But somehow, that made it all the more chilling.

Their eyes met. Yves gave a lazy, dismissive smile.

One of his well-heeled friends nudged him. "What's the story, Yves? You know that woman?"

Yves let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Can you believe I let her talk circles around me?"

He remembered when Winona first told him, with perfect confidence, that she was the developer behind the senior living project Wesley had recommended. And he'd believed her—after all, it was Wesley who'd made the introduction.

But now, the truth was plain.

He'd been fooled by this reckless, audacious woman.

"Huh?" His friend looked confused.

"Forget it. When the donation part starts, cover for me, will you?" Yves muttered before striding out of the ballroom.

Just outside, he found Winona sitting on the ground, shoved aside by the security guards.

What a humiliating joke.

"Are you done, Mr. Prescott?" Winona asked coolly.

Yves arched a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He was curious—what would she try next? Would she keep up the charade? Admit defeat? Pretend to faint?

"If you're finished humiliating me, I'll be on my way," Winona replied, her tone steady. "But if you're not, I can stand here and take it. I've got a real talent for enduring public shaming."

Yves fell silent.

This woman never played by the rules.

"So, what's next, Mr. Prescott? Planning to toss me in a river? Ship me off to some war-torn country? Or maybe just send me packing to the ends of the earth? I figure you're too busy for all that tonight—charity events and all," Winona said, reading him like an open book.

Yves hesitated, caught off guard.

"If you don't have time to deal with me, just let me go. It's not like I have anywhere to run," she finished, rising to her feet without waiting for his response, and walked away with her head held high.