Chapter 95 She has no right to speak to me like that

Seraphine slowly drew in a deep breath, allowing the cool air to fill her lungs as she steadied the swirl of emotions rising inside her chest before choosing to approach the situation with calm composure instead of reacting on impulse, because she understood very well that every person in the room was watching her closely and measuring her response.

With her posture straight and her voice controlled, she looked toward the man who had just spoken and asked politely, “May I know your name?”

The man leaned back comfortably in his chair as if the entire situation amused him, one arm resting casually over the armrest while his lips curved into a faint smile that carried an unmistakable trace of arrogance.

“Michael Tayler,” he introduced himself smoothly, his tone relaxed in a way that suggested he believed the attention in the room naturally belonged to him.

His gaze slowly moved across Seraphine’s figure before settling on her face again, and the smile lingering on his lips grew slightly more suggestive.

“And I would really love to see more of you.”

The flirtation behind his words did not escape anyone in the room, and several guests immediately exchanged subtle glances with one another as the meaning behind his statement became painfully clear.

A few expressions darkened with quiet disapproval, while others watched with curiosity to see how Seraphine would respond to such an openly suggestive remark in a room filled with powerful figures.

Seraphine tilted her head slightly to the side, a faint line forming between her brows as genuine confusion crossed her face while she repeated his words as though attempting to understand the intention behind them.

“More of me?”

Michael’s smile deepened, the amusement in his eyes growing more obvious as he leaned back even further in his chair as though enjoying the attention the exchange had begun to attract.

“Being in a relationship is not the same thing as marriage,” he said casually, speaking with the confidence of someone who believed his logic could not be challenged. “So technically speaking, you are still single.”

Leon’s expression darkened almost immediately as the implication behind Michael’s statement settled into the room, his jaw tightening as irritation sparked in his eyes.

He leaned forward slightly as though preparing to say something sharp enough to shut the conversation down entirely, but Seraphine responded before he could speak.

At the far end of the room, two best friends sat watching the unfolding scene in silence, their gazes fixed firmly on Seraphine and the man speaking to her. Neither of them spoke, yet the intensity in their eyes carried a darkness that hinted at growing displeasure.

Completely unaware of those silent observers, Seraphine allowed a calm smile to form on her lips as she looked directly at Michael.

“You know what, Michael,” she said in a steady voice that carried surprising calmness, “I already blacklisted you from my expectations.”

The words dropped into the room like a spark falling into dry grass.

A wave of shocked gasps rippled throughout the club as the statement registered in everyone’s minds, and the stunned expressions spreading across the guests made it clear that none of them had expected such a blunt response.

The more people believed they had begun to understand Seraphine’s personality, the more she managed to surprise them, revealing layers that made it impossible to predict how she would react next.

Many of the investors present exchanged confused looks with one another because the situation made little sense from a purely business perspective.

From their point of view, Seraphine needed their financial backing to bring her project to life, so casually blacklisting someone capable of investing billions seemed almost reckless.

Michael’s eyes darkened instantly as the meaning of her words sank in, and a flash of anger burned through his expression.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice low but vibrating with restrained fury.

Seraphine released a soft scoff as she folded her arms loosely across her chest, the gesture relaxed enough to suggest she felt no intimidation from the tension building in the room.

“I already did,” she replied calmly. “But I think you should ask yourself why.”

Michael felt the heat of humiliation rising up his neck as her dismissive tone scraped against his pride like sandpaper. The urge to lash out immediately flickered in his chest, yet he forced himself to swallow the anger long enough to demand an explanation.

“Why?” he asked sharply.

Seraphine gave a small nod, almost as though acknowledging that the question had finally brought them to the part of the conversation that actually mattered.

“Good,” she said quietly before continuing. “The reason is very simple,” she explained, her voice clear enough for every person in the room to hear. “Your lack of discipline and your lack of respect for women make you someone I would never want to work with.”

Michael’s brows snapped together as disbelief flashed across his face. “I beg your pardon?” he hissed.

Seraphine’s lips curved into a faint smile, but the expression carried absolutely no warmth as she looked directly at him.

“You could have easily gotten a private room,” she said steadily, her tone calm yet firm. “I saw exactly what you were doing earlier tonight, and in my opinion that behavior shows disrespect not only toward the woman you were paying, but also toward every man in this room. Money should never turn a leader into someone who behaves like an animal.”

Her words fell into the room with the heavy impact of a stone plunging into still water.

For a brief moment, silence spread across the club as the truth of her statement settled into the minds of everyone present.

Several of the men sitting around the room had been quietly disgusted by Michael’s behavior earlier in the evening, yet none of them had chosen to address it openly.

Watching Seraphine call him out so directly created a strange sense of satisfaction that they tried to conceal behind carefully neutral expressions.

However, Michael felt nothing except the burning sting of humiliation as the weight of every gaze in the room pressed down on him.

His pride twisted painfully inside his chest, and the anger boiling beneath his skin grew stronger with every second.

His jaw tightened until the muscles in his face stood out sharply as he turned his head toward Voren, fury blazing openly in his eyes now.

“Mr. Chairman,” he said coldly, his voice sharp with offended authority, “I demand her punishment. She has no right to speak to me like that.”