From His Fake Wife to Billionaire Heiress Chapter 118: Alarm Bells Went Off

"It's fine." Sophia immediately pointed to her assistant standing not far behind them. "We can go in first. I'll have my assistant wait here. When Riley's done with her call, he can take the invitation and go get her. Problem solved. We don't have to stand here freezing, right? What if we catch a cold?"

Lucas thought it over, feeling it made sense.

The three of them standing stupidly at the entrance wasn't really a solution. Besides, there were important guests inside he needed to mingle with.

He finally nodded, agreeing to Sophia's suggestion.

On the other side, after answering a few routine questions about her asset sources and fund flows, Riley quickly realized something was wrong. The questions started getting more and more trivial. Some of them were just going in circles—confirming information she'd already given multiple times. They were deliberately stalling.

Alarm bells went off in her head. She immediately sensed that something was wrong with the call.

She stopped engaging. She answered the last two questions as briefly as possible and hung up without hesitation.

But when she turned around, the car was empty.

Lucas and Sophia had disappeared through the grand revolving doors.

Just as she stood there stunned, her phone buzzed with a message.

It was from Lucas.

He typed, "It's windy out here. Sophia and I went in. Her assistant is waiting at the door for you. He'll bring you in."

Riley pushed down her emotions, walked to the hotel entrance, and waited.

Almost ten minutes passed.

Sophia's assistant was nowhere in sight.

The cold wind cut through her thin silk fishtail dress, sending chills down her body.

She took out her phone and called Lucas, expressionless.

The phone rang for a long time. Then Sophia picked up. "Hello? Riley?"

"Where's Lucas?" Riley asked coldly.

"Oh, Lucas is in a very important meeting right now. He can't come to the phone." Sophia's tone sounded so understanding—but with an undercurrent of smug satisfaction. "Is it urgent? I can have him call you back when he's done..."

Before Riley could respond, Sophia hung up.

All Riley heard was the dial tone.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to stay calm.

Riley was about to put her phone away and figure out what to do next, and a server carrying a tray walked past her.

Whether he tripped on something or just lost his balance, his foot suddenly slipped. His body tilted—right toward her.

Riley tried to move aside, but he was too fast. She didn't have time to react.

With a splash, a full glass of red wine spilled all over her light-colored fishtail dress, from her chest down to the skirt—huge, dark, ugly stains spreading everywhere.

Gasps came from nearby.

The server who caused the disaster looked flustered. He didn't even say sorry. He shoved his tray somewhere, disappeared into the crowd, and was gone.

This sudden commotion caused a small stir at the otherwise orderly hotel entrance.

Several security guards rushed over. The lead one had sharp eyes. He scanned the area and landed on Riley, standing there looking a mess.

"Miss, what happened here?" he asked formally, his gaze stopping briefly on her wine-stained dress.

Then he softened his tone, putting on a professional service attitude. "Your dress... Would you like us to help with that? The hotel has a VIP lounge. We can provide emergency cleaning and a spare gown."

It sounded very considerate. But his next sentence showed his real intent.

He added, "May I ask—are you a guest at tonight's Quinn family banquet?"

Riley nodded calmly.

"Very well." The security guard extended his hand in a "this way" gesture. "Then please show me your invitation. I need to verify your information, and then we'll arrange everything for you immediately."

Riley sneered inwardly.

Knew it. Nothing is ever that simple.

"I don't have an invitation," she said honestly. "I came with someone, but they already went inside."

The guard's expression changed immediately.

Every year, there were always some influencers or models trying to crash top banquets like this, hoping to climb the social ladder. They made up all kinds of excuses. But "my friends went in without me" was clearly the lamest one.

"Miss." The guard's voice turned cold. He didn't even bother with polite terms anymore. "Since you don't have an invitation, that means you're not an invited guest tonight."