Chapter 273

Chapter 273:
Brandon’s fists clenched tight as he watched her retreat with such unshakable grace.
He narrowed his eyes at Babette, who was now fussing over her dress, playing the part of someone with nothing to hide.
They were out of the crowded hall now, standing in a hushed corridor, tension coiling between them.
Vivian had chosen not to follow, insisting she’d already stirred enough drama for one night and would wait in the car instead.
Earlier, she’d quietly apologized to Brandon, explaining that she’d only wanted to talk about Macauley—she never meant to get tangled in a misunderstanding with Millie.
Now, the hallway felt even emptier with just Brandon and Babette standing there. Original content can be found at.net
Brandon fixed Babette with a sharp stare. “What exactly did you say to her?” he demanded.
Babette’s hand stilled mid-wipe, towel pressed to her stained dress. “Brandon, she’s the one who threw wine at me!” she cried, hoping to sound indignant.
But Brandon’s gaze stayed icy and unwavering.
He knew Millie’s temperament—she never lashed out without cause.
Babette’s pulse fluttered with panic.
She tried to hold her ground, but Brandon’s next words shattered any hope of dodging responsibility.
He fixed her with a hard stare as he pressed, “You want to explain, or should I just pull the surveillance footage?”
Babette’s jaw tightened as panic flickered across her face.
The cameras might not have caught every word, but there’d be no hiding how she’d cornered Millie first.
After a tense beat, Babette ducked her head, her voice small. “I told her I’d join the Watson Group’s finance department—the one that took over the Bennett family’s contracts.”
She left out everything about Flesta, carefully skirting the subject of her threats.
“I want the truth!” Brandon snapped, his tone cold and precise.
Tears sprang to Babette’s eyes, her lower lip quivering. “Fine. I told her I could handle that job—so what if I said that? Does that mean she gets to humiliate me? She dumped wine on me at my own party, right in front of everyone! Who the hell did Millie think she was, and what did she see me as? With everyone watching, she still found a way to humiliate me!”
Carefully avoiding any mention of Flesta or the bet—subjects she dared not touch—Babette whipped up her outrage, her voice rising as she burst into dramatic, noisy tears.
Tears streamed down Babette’s cheeks as she stole furtive glances at Brandon, but his eyes remained glacial, utterly unmoved by her display.
“Babette, should you desire it, you may select your position from any of the nation’s premier public or private equity establishments,” Brandon declared, each word delivered with surgical precision and glacial detachment. “However, that particular department remains under Bennett family jurisdiction. Your actions constitute a deliberate assault, motivated purely by personal vendetta.”
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