The family gathering today had been deliberately combined with a meeting for Bagas's business associates. The living room sofa was crammed with the wives of wood suppliers, furniture-store owners, and even several local officials, all busy showing off their jewelry and designer bags while gossiping. In their eyes, Naira was the lady of the Dirgantara household, a tough woman who had saved the factory when crisis struck.
"Naira, bring in the tea," Mrs. Hartini's shrill voice cut through the commotion from her throne-like chair. "Laras, accompany Ms. Naira. Help her hand out the pastries."
The small talk and laughter in the room stopped at once. Every head turned, and whispers began to creep through the gathering.
Naira stepped out from behind a pillar wearing a navy silk shirt and simple black pants, her work clothes as the manager behind the scenes. Behind her, Larasati followed gracefully in an extravagant maroon brocade dress, heavily made up, her hair neatly pinned up. Larasati carried only a small plate of pastries that required no effort at all.
As soon as they drew near, the guests' eyes went straight to Larasati's slightly swollen belly, then shifted to search for a reaction on Naira's impassive face.
"Please, ladies," Naira said calmly. Her fingers moved with practiced grace as she set down the warm cups one by one, refusing to show any weakness in front of people ready to judge her.
Larasati stood beside her, setting down the plate of pastries with deliberately slow movements. "Please have some. Bagas ordered them specially for today," Larasati chimed in coyly, deliberately showing just how special she was in her husband's eyes.
A stout middle-aged woman wearing a thick gold necklace—the wife of the province's largest wood distributor—looked Larasati up and down.
"So this is Bagas's new wife?" she asked loudly, instantly silencing the last of the conversation in the room. "No wonder Mrs. Hartini put together such a big event. We were all shocked when Bagas announced his official marriage last week."
Mrs. Hartini smiled broadly. "That's right, this is Larasati. Bagas has made their marriage official, and Laras is pregnant with my grandson. At last, the Dirgantara family will have an heir," she replied proudly as she set down her teacup.
Naira pulled back her empty tray, her chest suddenly tight. She knew exactly what her mother-in-law was doing—using this gathering as a stage for a public declaration, a subtle way to secure Larasati's position while slowly pushing Naira aside.
Bagas appeared from the direction of the terrace and immediately wrapped an arm around Larasati's waist in front of all the guests, his chin raised proudly. "Please keep my wife's pregnancy in your prayers. Laras gets nauseous easily, so she needs plenty of rest," Bagas said casually, deliberately stressing the words my wife as he glanced toward Naira.
The room instantly filled with congratulations and pregnancy advice. Not one of them looked at Naira anymore. In these people's eyes, Naira's role was over, pushed aside until she became a shadow slowly fading away.
"Sit here, Laras. Don't stand for too long," Mrs. Hartini ordered, patting the sofa beside her.
Larasati obediently nodded and sat down slowly, stroking her belly. "Thank you, Mother. I do get dizzy when I stand for too long. Ms. Naira is probably more used to going back and forth serving guests, right? She's such a hard worker," Larasati replied sweetly.
The words sounded considerate, but they had been chosen to equate Naira with a servant in front of everyone.
Naira stood tall, gripping the edge of her silver tray tightly. Her chest burned, but she refused to let her dignity be trampled so easily.
"Our factory is racing to meet its year-end targets, and I have a lot of financial reports to finish," Naira cut in calmly but firmly, looking straight at her husband's business associates. "I'm used to managing hundreds of millions in cash flow at my desk, so serving tea is hardly difficult."
The room fell silent at once. The smile on Bagas's face froze, and his eyes flashed a sharp warning for Naira not to embarrass him any further.
The wood distributor's wife's bright laugh broke the tension. "Mrs. Naira really is incredible—she never gives up," she said, sipping her tea while her eyes continued to assess Naira. "She was the one who worked so hard to persuade my husband when the Dirgantara factory was short on wood. She even made sure all the payments went through smoothly. And now she's still amazing—she can accept a second wife with such grace."
Naira drew a deep breath, then met the woman's gaze without fear. "Every family has its own trials," she answered calmly, refusing to air her marital wounds before people who were hungry for gossip.
"There aren't many first wives as strong as Mrs. Naira," a woman from the end of the sofa chimed in. "And to be willing to live under the same roof, too. If it were me, I'd ask for a divorce immediately. I wouldn't stand for sharing my husband."
"Hush, don't say things like that," Mrs. Hartini cut in quickly, her face displeased. "Naira knows her place and knows how to be grateful to this family. She wouldn't recklessly ruin her husband's reputation."
Bagas nodded in agreement as he patted Larasati's shoulder. "Naira understands our situation perfectly. She knows I need a son, and we've discussed this carefully for the sake of the company's future," he added without a hint of shame.
Naira bit the inside of her cheek until it stung, holding back the storm in her chest. Bagas lied so smoothly, without the slightest trace of guilt. There had never been any careful discussion. Her husband had bribed the court, forged her consent signature, and forced her to accept this situation under pressure from her mother-in-law.
"Bagas really is so responsible," Larasati interjected, coyly showing off the emerald ring on her finger. "All our needs are taken care of. Bagas even bought me an apartment before Mother asked me to move in here. Ms. Naira must be proud to have such an amazing husband."
Naira stood frozen, while her palms suddenly turned cold. Larasati had just foolishly exposed the company's fund flow, all to flaunt her victory in front of everyone.
The business associates immediately exchanged glances and began whispering. Buying a luxury apartment downtown was no small expense, especially when they all knew Dirgantara Teak Furniture had nearly failed to pay for its wood supplies three months earlier. Suspicious whispers began spreading among the business owners.
The wood distributor's wife raised her eyebrows high. She immediately sensed something wrong with the company's finances. Her eyes fixed on Naira with keen curiosity, clearly relishing the spectacle of the downfall of a woman who had always been known as tough.
"Wow, Bagas is awfully generous, buying an apartment before the official wedding," the woman sneered, slowly swirling her teacup. "Mrs. Naira must be thrilled that her husband's money is being used to make his new family happy. A good wife should be willing to share her husband's assets, right?"