Chapter 917:
“Just wait and watch. If they provoke Mr. Scott, they’ll be tossed out like ragdolls. That man’s will is steel—he doesn’t bend for tearful eyes or fluttering lashes.”
A ripple of mocking laughter swept through the onlookers, awaiting their humiliation, drawing Brendon’s attention toward the scene like iron filings to a magnet.
His gaze fixed on the grotesque mask—the upturned crimson grin, the ceramic-white cheeks peeling faintly at the edges—and in a jolt sharp as a blade between the ribs, he recognized her. It was Christina. Had she lost her mind? She had actually dared to openly invite Dylan to dance.
Brendon had expected Christina to don a mask, gliding toward him to extend an invitation—a secretive waltz under glittering chandeliers, where faces blurred and whispered words replaced formality. But reality offered no such poetry.
Brendon’s hand curled slowly into a fist, a sour ache unfurling in his chest like ink spreading through water—quiet yet staining everything it touched. His feelings were a knot of mockery at her audacity and bitterness that the invitation had not been his to receive. It wasn’t meant to be. Shouldn’t she have seized this chance—when masks hid all faces—to press herself into his embrace? Why wasn’t it as he had pictured it?
His gaze smoldered with restrained fury, fixed so intently on Dylan’s unreadable expression that the wineglass in his hand quivered on the edge of shattering. Dylan was only luckier than others by birth, blessed with a wealthy family background.
Yolanda feigned surprise. “Isn’t that Christina? Could it be she’s trying to invite Mr. Scott to dance? How could she be so bold? Doesn’t she know Mr. Scott despises women who dare to covet any sort of contact with him?”
Feigning anxiety, Yolanda lightly tugged at Brendon’s sleeve. “Brendon, what should we do? If Christina keeps this up, Mr. Scott will have her thrown out.”
Brendon’s irritation flared—her voice, usually sweet and coy, now grated on his ears like a harsh scrape.
𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗵: 𝖌𝖆𝗅𝗇𝗈𝖛𝖊𝗅𝘀﹒ⅽ𝗈𝗆
“Ha!” Katie sneered. “If she gets thrown out, all the better—let’s see how she dares to force her way into high society after that disgrace. Everyone knows Mr. Scott loathes physical contact—if she insists on courting ruin, she has no one to blame but herself.”
Brendon’s brows drew together as he chided in a low voice, “Katie, don’t talk nonsense.”
“I didn’t say anything wrong!” Katie snapped back immediately. She suppressed her temper and leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Wouldn’t it be satisfying to see Christina get booted out? While the gift we prepared for Margot will definitely outshine hers, if Christina gets kicked out, ours will shine even brighter.”
Brendon considered it and found Katie’s logic hard to argue with. The humiliation Christina might face was nothing compared to the Dawson family’s brighter future. After all, Christina had stubbornly refused to part with that painting, despite their appealing offer, all for the sake of presenting it to Margot today to make an impression. She was the one who brought this impending disgrace upon herself. If anything, once the Dawson family reached new heights, they could always find a way to make it up to her later.
“Brendon, maybe we should try to stop Christina,” Yolanda said softly, though she had no real intention of doing so.
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