?<strong>Chapter 817:</strong>


    Fiona’s mind spiraled, and with sudden resolve, she grabbed her coat, snatched the car keys, and walked out the door.


    She knew exactly where her husband would be—Flex Club, the most extravagant and notorious club in Illerith, known for itsvish indulgence. She felt disgusted with herself for rushing out in such a hurry, wearing nothing but a coat over her pajamas, clearly on a mission to confront her unfaithful husband.


    She couldn’t risk asking anyone for help, not wanting to tip him off that she wasing, especially in a ce like this, likely filled with his friends.


    Fiona kept her head down, moving quickly between the private rooms, peeking through the cracks in the doors whenever one opened.


    “Michael.”


    At the sound of the name, Fiona’s gaze instinctively darted towards the hallway. There, she saw a young woman in her early twenties, standing in front of Michael, blocking his way.


    Fiona froze, her heart pounding.


    “Michael, why do you always avoid me?” the young woman asked, her voice yful yet persistent.


    Michael’s tone was sharp and cold as he met her gaze, though he didn’t step back as she closed the distance. “Dulce, why do you keep bothering me?”


    “Do you really not like me at all?”


    Dulce was striking and bold, her appearance daring even in the chill of the evening.


    Despite the cold, she wore a camisole and a short skirt, her hair styled in a way Fiona couldn’t quite name but that exuded confidence.


    If this was the kind of woman her husband was meeting tonight, Fiona couldn’t deny the sting of defeat.


    Michael didn’t seem to notice Fiona’s presence as he answered Dulce, his voice calm but firm. “I don’t like you.”


    “I don’t believe you.”


    Seizing the opportunity fueled by alcohol, Dulce grabbed Michael’s cor, standing on tiptoe to press her lips to his.


    “Michael!”


    Dulce almost kissed Michael, her lips inches from his when a loud call interrupted her.


    She whipped her head around to see who it was, but before she could make sense of the situation, she was pushed back.


    The moment Michael saw Fiona, his expression hardened, and without hesitation, he shoved Dulce away.


    Dulce collided with the wall, wincing in pain, her breath catching.


    Michael resisted the urge to step forward and withdrew his hand.


    Fiona stood there, her eyes wide with shock. “You…”


    For some reason, Michael felt like he had just betrayed Lacey.


    “What are you doing here?” he asked.


    Fiona, struggling topose herself, suddenly shouted, “How could you betray my sister like this?”


    Her words rang out, loud enough for anyone nearby to understand what was happening.


    .


    .


    .