Me.

I walked onto the stage. The crowd erupted. From the back, Preston stared in horror as the woman he’d treated like a doormat commanded the room.

When the speech ended, he lost it—shoving through the crowd, screaming my name. Security intercepted him before he reached my table.

“I’m her husband!” he howled. “Elena, tell them!”

I looked down at him without mercy. “Mr. Sterling,” I murmured to Harrison, “your security is slacking. Please have him removed.”

“Escort him out,” Harrison said, unruffled.