Chapter 133: The Man Standing Over There Is My Husband

Valentine Anderson's discomfort was palpable as he felt the weight of stares upon him. In a bid to ease his unease, he snatched a glass of wine from a passing waiter and downed it in one go.

After Mrs. Anderson finished her speech and stepped down from the podium, a song started playing in the background. "We now invite the husband and wife to open the dance floor," echoed through the room.

Andrea and Lucas exchanged a glance that spoke of deep love before joining hands and moving towards the dance floor.

Witnessing the scene, Valentine's grip tightened, his fingernails digging into his palm. His face twisted into a scowl, the flames of jealousy consuming him. With a concerted effort, he wrenched his gaze away and approached Benita, who was chatting animatedly with her friends.

"Benny, why are you letting Lucas dance with Andrea when you know he's not really Valentine?" he blurted out, the words escaping him before he could rein them in.

Benita and her friends turned to face Valentine, noting the bloodshot fury in his eyes. While her friends were taken aback, Benita was not. She knew all too well the extent of Valentine's jealousy, and with a sly edge to her voice, she responded, "That is my brother Valentine Anderson. What exactly are you implying?"

Valentine, already on edge, fell right into her trap, responding with a gloomy retort, "If he's Valentine Anderson, then who am I?"

Pretending not to hear him, Benita pressed, "Sorry, what was that?"

Out of sheer frustration, Valentine ran his fingers through his hair and dismissed the conversation, "Never mind."

He stormed out of the hall that now felt stifling, desperate for air. Outside, he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, but the nicotine did little to quell his irritation. With a savage kick to a flowerpot, he let out a furious bellow: "Andrea!"

"Valentine" it was then that he heard his name, spoken in a familiar voice that made him freeze. He didn't turn immediately; instead, he stood with his back to the voice, fighting to regain control over his rampant emotions.

Finally composed, he faced Andrea with a forced smile, saying, "Mrs. Andrea Singers, I am not Valentine Anderson. I am Pascal Willow."

Andrea simply looked at him with piercing eyes, her gaze unsettling him. Then she spoke, her voice calm but firm, "How long will you keep up this charade? Tell me once and for all, are you Valentine Anderson or Pascal Willow?"

Valentine's heart skipped a beat under Andrea's intense scrutiny. His mind raced, and for a moment, his resolve faltered. Yet, recalling Margret Willow's stern warning, he steadied himself and replied coolly, "I am Pascal Willow from Cardiff City. Mrs. Andrea Singers, you should return to the hall and continue enjoying the evening with your so-called husband."

Andrea's expression darkened with disappointment. She had hoped for honesty, yet he persisted in his deception. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked back into the hall.

Valentine Anderson noticed the disappointment in Andrea's expression, his sweaty fists clenched as he struggled to resist the urge to reveal his true identity. Margret Willow's words echoed in his mind, preventing him from impulsively approaching her. Despite his inner turmoil, he refrained from confessing and remained silent.

A sudden beep from his phone interrupted his thoughts. Glancing at the screen, he saw a message from Margret Willow simply stating, "It is time."

Taking a deep breath, Valentine realized that the moment had arrived to witness Andrea and Lucas Anderson's embarrassing display. He reentered the hall.

Inside, the hall was elegantly set up with tables adorned with bottles of wine, glasses, and guest request food booklets for each pair of guests.

Valentine Anderson arrived just in time to witness Andrea and Lucas Anderson renew their vows. His chest tightened with anger, but as he looked around, he suddenly heard the sound of a glass being knocked. His gaze followed the direction of the noise, like the other guests, curious about what he was about to say.

"Excuse me for this intrusion,” he began, his voice cutting crisply through the air, arresting the ceremony in its tracks. “Before we proceed with this vow renewal, may I trouble the officiant and the couple celebrating their anniversary to state their names? I believe I'm not alone in my curiosity.” He paused, allowing his eyes to meet those of the assembled guests, implicitly including them in his inquiry. “Aren't you all wondering as well?”

The question of Andrea’s spouse had been a hot topic online for days, and Valentine knew very well that the curiosity had permeated this hall too. No one could pretend indifference now.

Before Andrea could formulate a response, the flash of cameras and the whir of recording equipment filled the hall. Journalists and reporters, seemingly materializing out of nowhere, had commandeered the celebration, transforming it into a media spectacle.

A cold smile curled Valentine Anderson’s lips as he watched the scene unfold.

Andrea felt a wave of discomfort; this was not how things were supposed to go. The plan had been to draw Valentine out, to have him disrupt the vow renewal himself. But now, the media had crashed the party, slipping through the watchful eyes of Tony.

She scanned the hall and locked eyes with Tony, who stood in a corner with a look of helplessness on his face. Normally, he would have moved heaven and earth to expel the unwanted media, but the guests were influential power players, and any misstep could lead to a severe backlash against the Singers Group.

A voice, deep and unyielding, cut through the chatter. “Mrs. Singers, the suspense is palpable. We'd all like to know—who is your husband?”

Andrea steeled herself and replied into the microphone, "The man standing there—Valentine Anderson—is my husband."

All eyes, along with the relentless glare of camera lights, swung towards the entrance where Valentine stood. An audible gasp reverberated around the room.

“How is that possible? He doesn't resemble Valentine Anderson at all!”

Among the murmurs, another voice chimed in, "I recognize him. That’s the chairman of Willow Group, the one rumored to have returned from the dead."