The Billionaire's Forgotten Wife
Chapter 39: Not Just Anybody

Chapter 39: Not Just Anybody

Zeke’s quiet confession seemed to settle something in the room.

For Andrew, it was the final push he needed.

Andrew took a slow breath. "I saw Ms. Cassidy yesterday."

Zeke didn’t look surprised. His gaze stayed calm, steady. The earlier notification had already confirmed most of what he needed to know.

"Where?" he asked simply.

"At a café. I was with Karen. She was sitting with another woman... and a few kids."

Zeke looked thoughtful. "Was the woman her sister? Georgia?"

Andrew shook his head. "I’m not sure. I’ve never seen Georgia before."

A beat of silence passed.

Zeke’s voice lowered. "Did she look... alright?"

Andrew nodded. "She looked happy."

There was the slightest twitch at the corner of Zeke’s mouth. Not quite a smile. Almost a wince. "Of course," he murmured. "She should be."

Andrew hesitated, then asked quietly, "So... what are you going to do?"

Zeke didn’t answer right away. Then, calmly, "I need to think. If I really want to see her... I need to be sure."

Andrew looked at him. "Sure of what? Your reason... or your courage?"

A faint smile tugged at Zeke’s lips. Barely there. "Maybe both."

Andrew gave a small nod and stepped back. "Let me know if you need anything."

Zeke didn’t respond. His eyes returned to his laptop screen, though it was clear his mind was nowhere near the numbers in front of him.

***

Meanwhile, back at the dealership, Cassidy had just completed the payment for the cars.

She turned to Carol with a calm expression. "So, can you contact your superior now?"

Carol gave a brisk nod. "Of course. I’ll call him right away."

A few minutes later, Carol returned, holding out her phone. A video call was already in progress. On the screen was a well-dressed man in his late forties, the regional director.

"I want to personally apologize for the mishandling of this incident by our staff," the director said, his tone professional yet regretful. "We will, of course, review the CCTV footage immediately. If our staff are at fault, appropriate consequences will be enforced. I appreciate your patience and thank you for doing business with us, Ms. Cassidy."

Cassidy simply nodded once.

Soon after, another staff member wheeled over a laptop and opened the recorded CCTV footage. Everyone involved, Cassidy, Carol, the boy’s mother, Vincent, and the manager, gathered around the screen.

There was no denying it now.

The footage clearly showed Claire walking calmly near the vehicle, while the little boy came running at full speed around the corner. They collided, and in the process, the boy stumbled and scraped the side of the dealership’s most expensive BMW model.

A heavy silence fell.

Vincent’s face turned pale. The manager shifted awkwardly. And the boy’s mother, arms crossed and jaw tight, refused to meet Cassidy’s eyes.

Eventually, both Vincent and the manager lowered their heads.

"We’re truly sorry, Ms. Cassidy," the manager muttered, defeated. "We... misjudged the situation."

Cassidy didn’t say anything to them. Her gaze turned to the boy’s mother.

"I expect you to apologize," she said flatly. "To me. And to my daughter. And you’ll be covering the cost of that damage."

She paused, then added, "Your son owes Claire an apology, too."

The woman’s jaw clenched. She looked like she’d just swallowed poison.

No one had expected Cassidy, dressed simply and quiet in demeanor, to wield a black card or pay for two cars in full. And now, with the truth out, the balance of power had shifted completely.

But instead of apologizing, the woman narrowed her eyes at Cassidy and muttered bitterly under her breath, "What are you, some rich old man’s mistress? That kid’s probably a bastard."

Cassidy heard her.

Her entire posture changed. Her eyes turned sharp and cold.

"I’m sorry, what did you just say?"

The woman blinked. Caught off guard.

"I... I didn’t say anything."

But it was too late. Cassidy had heard every word.

She took a step forward, her voice dangerously low. "You called my daughter a bastard."

The woman huffed. "So what if I did? Just look at you. You scream ’homewrecker.’ I wouldn’t be surprised if you seduced someone’s husband and that poor girl is the result."

Pakkk...

The slap was sharp. Clean. Immediate.

Gasps echoed through the showroom. Carol covered her mouth. Other customers had gathered, some already filming with their phones.

The woman stumbled back, stunned.

"You hit me?" she shrieked. "You crazy bitch!"

She lunged forward, trying to strike back but was quickly restrained by Vincent and the manager, who held her arms and dragged her away from Cassidy.

Still thrashing and yelling, the woman kept screaming profanities, threatening Cassidy at the top of her lungs.

"I’m calling the cops! You’re going to jail for this!"

Cassidy’s face remained composed, her voice icy.

"Go ahead. And I’ll report you for slander."

The woman yanked her arm free from Vincent and the manager. "Let go of me! I need to call someone."

Vincent and the manager exchanged a glance before releasing her.

Still fuming, she rummaged through her purse, snatched her phone, and dialed quickly. But her voice changed completely. Sweet, soft, almost flirtatious.

"Babe... you need to come here. Some crazy woman just slapped me in front of our kid. She hurt him. I want you to come and show her she messed with the wrong person."

Then she paused, listening. She glanced at Cassidy with a smug smile, then ended the call.

"You wait," she hissed. "I’ll have you begging at my feet."

Cassidy didn’t respond. She calmly pulled out her phone and called Georgia.

"Hey. I need a lawyer. Now. Send one to the BMW dealership downtown."

Georgia didn’t ask questions. She just said, "On it."

Within fifteen minutes, a man in his late forties stepped into the showroom in a sharp navy suit. He walked straight to the other woman.

"Mrs. Kendra. I was sent by Mr. Thompson," he said respectfully.

Kendra immediately shifted into performance mode. "She hit me. In front of my child. I want to press charges."

The lawyer gave a solemn nod, then turned slightly and addressed the room. "Under current U.S. law, assault and battery in a public space can lead to both civil and criminal charges. That being said, we’ll need to file a formal report and gather witness statements—"

Cassidy cut in quietly, "My attorney will be here shortly. He’ll speak with you."

Carol, Vincent, and Gregory stood off to the side, saying nothing. But they were all thinking the same thing. Kendra had picked the wrong woman to mess with.

Of all the people she could’ve mouthed off to, she’d chosen someone who clearly wasn’t just anybody.

They remembered the moment Cassidy pulled out that black card, no flash, no drama. Just a quiet swipe like it was nothing. But they knew exactly what it meant. That wasn’t a card given out because of charm or a fling. That was a card reserved for the trusted few, people who didn’t just have money, but power behind it.

And now, Cassidy wasn’t shouting. She wasn’t rattled or breaking down. She was calm. Cold, even. But not with anger, with complete control.

Ten minutes later, the dealership doors slid open again.

A man in his mid-thirties stepped inside. Tall, lean, with an effortless air of elegance. His suit was impeccable, shoes polished, hair styled like he walked out of a high-end magazine. Every step he took screamed confidence.

Before stepping into the dealership, Denis had received a short, to-the-point call from Georgia.

"Go to the BMW dealership downtown, near the mall," she’d said. "Look for a woman named Cassidy. Ask her what needs to be done. She’s beautiful, you’ll know exactly who she is the moment you see her."

That was all.

No files, no details. Just a name and a location.

And the moment Denis stepped into the building and felt the tension thick in the air, he knew exactly who Cassidy was.

Composed. Dressed simply. But something about her pulled the room’s attention without even trying.

He walked straight to her.

"Ms. Cassidy?" he said smoothly. "I’m Denis. Madam Georgia sent me."

Cassidy gave a small nod.

Denis turned toward the scene, already scanning the players, piecing things together in seconds. His brow twitched slightly.

This was it?

A slap?

His lips twitched, just short of a smirk. He’d come racing over, thinking this was a high-profile breach-of-contract case or a federal dispute. Instead, it was... this.

He turned fully toward Kendra and her lawyer.

The moment the woman’s lawyer saw who had just walked in, his face went pale. His lips parted slightly, and he swallowed hard.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath.

There went his chances.

Denis Evans.

He’d heard the name, of course. Who in the legal world hadn’t? Young, brilliant, and absolutely ruthless. Denis didn’t just win cases, he destroyed them. He didn’t just beat opponents, he shredded their arguments and left them crawling out of court wondering how they ever thought they had a chance.

And now he was here? For her?

The lawyer’s hands started to sweat.

He glanced at his client, still fuming, still muttering curses under her breath, completely unaware of the nuclear bomb she’d just triggered.

He didn’t say a word.

But inside, he was already mourning the case.

And maybe... his career.

"Let’s begin, then," Denis said coolly.

***