Micah frowned, clearly not happy with my reaction.
Before he could say anything, their friends swarmed around us.
“Micah, this mistress has some nerve showing up here like this,” one of them sneered. “You should slap her—make it up to Lana.”
Micah didn’t move.
But Lana was staring at him expectantly.
Micah turned to me instead. “Just leave, okay?”
“Why should I?” I asked coldly. “And mistress? Tell me, Micah—am I a mistress?”
Someone nearby scoffed and spat at the ground near my feet. “Micah has a wife and kid. What else would that make you?”
I stared at Micah with fire in my eyes. “Well?”
Micah’s voice was low. “No.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Chaos erupted as everyone started shouting in Lana’s defense.
Micah tried to calm them down. “No, it’s not what you think, guys. She and I… we’re just friends. She’s not a mistress. We barely even know each other.”
I let out a disbelieving laugh. “Not even friends? Really, Micah? Then tell me—why are you holding your wedding in my house?”
Someone near me kicked my leg. “Your house? This is Micah and Lana’s home, you delusional gold digger.”
“Typical homewrecker.”
“People like her should be paraded through the streets.”