Chapter 105

"Did you actually just ask me to apologize to that maid?" Cassandra's laughter rang through the boutique like shattering glass. "Have you lost your mind completely?"

She clutched her stomach, doubling over with exaggerated mirth. Her two sycophantic friends, Amelia and Beatrice, joined in the cruel chorus, their designer-clad shoulders shaking with performative amusement.

"That lowly employee ruined my shopping experience at your hotel!" Cassandra pointed an accusatory finger, her French manicure flashing under the boutique lights. "She broke my necklace and treated me like some common customer. I had every right to put her in her place!"

"Exactly!" Amelia chimed in, flipping her highlighted hair. "Who do you think you are, demanding an apology? This isn't some backwater village market - this is Éclat Boutique!"

Theodore's lips twitched. If these airheaded socialites knew every Monarch Grand Hotel in the country belonged to the woman they were insulting, they'd probably faint from sheer terror.

"Aren't you concerned about tarnishing Blackwood Industries' reputation?" Evelyn's voice remained deceptively calm. "Your brother worked hard to build that company's prestige. Do you really want to be the one who destroys it?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes so dramatically I feared they might get stuck. "Spare me the lecture. I'm not the CEO - that's Nathan's cross to bear. If Father wanted me to care about corporate image, he would've made me president instead of that bastard."

The boutique staff exchanged shocked glances. Even the mannequins seemed to recoil at the venom in her words.

Evelyn's smile turned glacial. The Blackwood family's facade of unity was just that - a carefully constructed illusion. Behind closed doors, they were vipers in a gilded cage, each waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Ms. Blackwood," Evelyn said silkily, "if corporate reputation means nothing to you, perhaps your personal standing in society does? The Montgomery family values discretion in their future daughter-in-law, don't they?"

Cassandra's perfectly contoured face paled. "How dare you threaten me! Just because you've got Sebastian Kingsley wrapped around your finger doesn't mean you can intimidate me!" She whirled toward the security team. "Remove this peasant from my store immediately! She's contaminating the air with her poverty!"

Two guards advanced, but Theodore moved with lethal grace. His black belt in Krav Maga made short work of their pathetic attempts. The takedown was so elegant several salesgirls actually sighed.

"Since reasoning fails," Evelyn said, withdrawing her phone, "perhaps visual aids will succeed." She beckoned Cassandra closer. "Come, let me show you something... enlightening."

Cassandra hesitated, pride warring with curiosity. Finally, she stomped forward - only to recoil as if struck when she saw the screen. "That's impossible! I paid those photographers triple to destroy those photos!"

Evelyn scrolled through the incriminating images with deliberate slowness. "My terms are simple. Public apology to my employee, and these disappear forever. Refuse..." She pocketed the phone with finality. "Well, you're intelligent enough to imagine the consequences."

Cassandra's breathing turned ragged. These photos could destroy her carefully cultivated image, her engagement to Julian Montgomery, everything. With a shriek, she lunged for the phone.

Evelyn sidestepped effortlessly. Cassandra crashed onto a velvet chaise, her designer dress riding up unflatteringly. Humiliation burned through her as she raised a trembling hand to strike.

The resounding slap echoed through the boutique like a gunshot.

Gasps erupted as five crimson fingerprints bloomed across Cassandra's surgically-enhanced cheekbone. The strike had been so fast no one saw Evelyn's hand move.

Theodore bit back a grin. That's my boss.

Cassandra's so-called friends had retreated behind a clothing rack, their loyalty evaporating faster than champagne bubbles.

"You... you hit me?" Cassandra touched her stinging cheek in disbelief. "Do you know who I am?"

"I do," Evelyn said coolly. "You're the woman who's about to apologize to my employee. Unless you'd prefer these photos circulating at Julian's birthday gala next week?"

The blood drained from Cassandra's face. In that moment, she finally understood - she wasn't dealing with some naive upstart. She'd challenged a queen in her own court. And lost.