Chapter 6 - The Fall of Julian Hayes
A cold smirk played at the corners of my lips, my eyes firmly locked onto Julian’s increasingly stiff face.
“As one of CEO Hayes's most important partners, I want to use their language to express my most sincere expectations.” I switched to German, my tone strict and clear, every syllable pronounced as perfectly as a textbook: “May all your contracts be authentic and valid, and your reputation remain forever clean and spotless.”
As soon as these words came out, the faces of several German business partners in the audience instantly changed. They exchanged suspicious and uncertain glances, looking at Julian with added scrutiny.
Cold sweat began to form on Julian’s forehead. His hands unconsciously clenched into fists. He wanted to open his mouth to stop me, but couldn't find a single excuse.
Chloe, standing beside him, completely didn't understand what I was saying. She could only sense something was wrong from the eerie atmosphere in the venue. The smile on her face became incredibly stiff, like a cheap mask.
The contrast of their panic was absolutely comical. Offstage, the emotion in Carter's eyes was no longer admiration, but sheer vindictive pleasure.
I gave Julian no chance to catch his breath.
“Of course, we also have distinguished guests from Spain, Japan, and Korea.” My voice wasn't loud, but it clearly broadcasted across the estate.
“Wishing you a bright future, with no need to pay back any debts.” (Spanish)
“May your future be free of betrayal and lies.” (Japanese)
“May the rest of your lives find peace in a place behind iron bars.” (Korean)
Every time I switched languages, Julian’s face paled another shade.
The guests had transitioned from watching a spectacle to absolute shock. Especially the international partners who had dealings with Julian—they looked at me as if looking at a monster. They never expected that the "uncultured, monolingual" ex-wife Julian always talked about was actually a linguistic genius.
My speaking pace wasn't fast, every word was clear, acting like precise surgical scalpels, peeling away Julian’s hypocritical disguise layer by layer.
Finally, I looked at him and switched to the language that opened our story. The very language he used at our ten-year anniversary to humiliate me and propose to his first love.
I used the most standard, most pleasant Russian, smiling as I enunciated every word: “Julian, do you remember ten years ago? You said you loved me, also in Russian.”
His body began to tremble uncontrollably. His lips were white, his eyes full of terror.
I paused for a moment, savoring his despair.
Then, I used English, which everyone understood, to clearly deliver my final "blessing":
“Now, I use the language you proposed in to bless you—may you lose all your standing and reputation, and be left with absolutely nothing.”
The moment the words fell, Julian’s entire body violently shook, as if struck by lightning. He staggered back a step, his face as white as paper, as if all the blood in his body had been drained.
The entire ballroom was dead silent. So quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everyone was terrified out of their wits by this earth-shattering reversal.
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Chloe finally reacted, albeit late. She frantically grabbed Julian’s arm, screaming, “Julian, what... what is she saying? What is going on?!”
But Julian was like a soulless puppet, unable to utter a single word.
