The fiancée let out a piercing shriek, tore off the diamond engagement ring Dominic had given her — bought, undoubtedly, with Sterling money — and hurled it at his bleeding face.

“Don’t ever come near me or my son again!” she sobbed, grabbing her little boy and fleeing the stage.

From the front row, Dominic’s mother, who had been sitting in stunned silence, suddenly leapt into action.

She didn’t run to help her bleeding son.

I watched in morbid fascination as the woman who had spent years criticizing my cooking, my clothes, and my career pivoted on the spot. Her eyes widened with manic calculation.

She shoved past the remaining Kensingtons and rushed toward me, arms outstretched, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face.