Chapter 7 - The Confrontation in Front of High Society
“You!” Beatrice hissed, stopping right in front of me, her voice trembling with rage and disbelief. “What are you doing here? This is an exclusive event for high-society families! Security! Remove this street rat immediately!”
The entire ballroom fell dead silent. Dozens of wealthy socialites, business tycoons, and reporters turned their attention toward us.
I didn't flinch. I took a slow sip of my champagne, looked down at Beatrice with an expression of icy amusement, and smiled softly.
“Good evening, Beatrice,” I said, my voice carrying clearly across the silent room. “It’s interesting that you talk about security. Because if memory serves me right, you’re the one who usually needs security to protect your fading assets.”
“How dare you!” Beatrice shrieked, raising her hand to slap me across the face.
Before her hand could even move an inch, Arthur Sterling stepped smoothly in front of me, catching Beatrice’s wrist in a firm, unyielding grip. The air in the room grew freezing cold.
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“Mrs. Vance,” Arthur said, his voice deep and authoritative. “I would strongly advise you not to touch my primary business partner and strategic director. Unless, of course, you want your remaining corporate holdings liquidated by tomorrow morning.”
Beatrice froze, her eyes darting frantically between Arthur Sterling—one of the most powerful men in the country—and me.
