Mr. Villain's Lovely Wife

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Chapter 170

Chapter 170

Pamella could feel her face burning from embarrassment, but before she could say another word, Izzy was already pointing to another painting.

What the hell was this woman saying? Why would she suddenly talk about Cecil? Everyone in this room knew about Cecil Weiss’s issue! What the hell was Izzy thinking!?

Izzy’s gaze remained steady as she turned slightly, lifting her champagne glass to her lips before pointing toward another painting across the room.

“And what about that one?” she asked, her tone effortlessly neutral.

Pamella hesitated for the briefest second, the previous comment still lingering in her mind. But with so many eyes on her. she couldn’t afford to falter. She took a breath, forcing herself to focus on the painting in front of her.

“This is a study in atmospheric abstraction,” she said, stepping closer. “You can see how the artist plays with muted tones and blurred edges to create a dreamlike quality. The depth here is achieved not through structure but through color gradients- see how the shades transition seamlessly? It gives the illusion of movement, almost as if the painting is breathing”

A few of the women murmured in appreciation, nodding along as if they understood.

Izzy watched Pamella with unreadable eyes before glancing at the painting again. “I see.”

Pamella kept talking, but this time, there was a slight stiffness to her posture. It wasn’t hard to tell that she was eager to move -on from the previous topic.

Just as Izzy was about to point to yet another painting, the lights in the ballroom dimmed slightly, signaling the start of the -main program. The crowd began shifting, returning to their seats or gathering closer to the stage where the auctioneer was preparing to speak.

Pamella exhaled sharply, relieved at the interruption. But before Izzy could step away, Pamella reached out and grabbed her arm, her grip firm.

“Shut the fuck up,” Pamella hissed under her breath. “Don’t do that again, or you will regret it.”

Izzy turned her head, her expression calm as she met Pamella’s glare. “Are you threatening me?”

Pamella’s grip tightened, but she didn’t say another word. Instead, she gritted her teeth before releasing Izzy’s arm abruptly and stalking off.

Izzy barely reacted, simply brushing off the spot where Pamella had grabbed her before turning toward the stage.

Pamella moved back to her seat, but she was fuming. Her fingers curled tightly around her champagne glass as she struggled to keep her expression neutral.

woman–that damn woman–had humiliated her

took a slow breath, forcing herself to stay composed.

this go

get exactly

calmly made her way back to her seat, adjusting her dress slightly as she sat down.

her phone buzzed.

1/3

Chapter 170

glanced at the screen. Atty.

us she simply left noting to find him on her way back to their seat. The room

past the grand pillars that framed the entrance. This part of the verse was noticeably less crowded. The soft glow of wall sconces cast elongated chaidoses across

guest wandered in or out. To her left, the corridor led to the restrooms and the private lounge area. The elevator doors stood further down their golden panela reflecting the ambient light.

lifted the phone to her car, pressing

could say anything, the

at the screen, brows furrowing. She immediately redialed, but the call

strange feeling settled in

ballroom, intending to find Liam, when someone grabbed her arm.

was firm, halting her

Meanwhile…

on your own?” Calen asked Pamella when he noticed her staring at him with a

“Nothing,” Pamella said.

asked. Earlier, he had let Pamella go with the other women while he talked to some acquaintances who were also interested in building connections with the Blackwell

lingering elsewhere. Then, as if on cue, a wave of murmurs rippled through the

head, catching the way guests subtly leaned toward one another, whispering behind

up,” she said,

frowned. “They’re about to start.”

Pamella murmured,

of the ballroom and into the open corridor

grew louder. A small crowd had already gathered near the entrance to the women’s restroom, their expressions ranging from mild curiosity

man

to the man. “What’s

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