Chapter 8
Chapter 8:
Sylvie smirked and folded her arms. “The minimum spend here is ten grand. I doubt you make that in a month. Tell you what, my family’s looking for someone to clean the toilets. Work for my family for a month, and I’ll cover your bill. What do you say p>
Vivian let out a soft chuckle. “That’s generous, Sylvie. If you’d rather not scrub toilets, Miss, I can pay for you instead. No cleaning necessary—just get on your knees and polish my shoes. Then I’ll settle the bill for you p>
Clicks echoed through the room as more people snapped photos, some already posting the drama online.
Seeing this, Rosie was very pleased. The people she had hired were doing their job perfectly, each capturing the scene and sharing it on social media.
She believed that soon enough, Brenna’s name would be dragged through the mud, and neither the Harper family nor Ethan would want anything to do with her.
In an attempt to portray herself as the kind person who cleaned up the mess for Brenna later, Rosie sneaked out into the scorching heat, closely monitoring the chaos within.
Vivian turned to the waitress, reaching into her designer bag. “How much is her bill?” she asked, pulling out a thick stack of cash and dropping it onto the table. She looked at Brenna. “Do as we say, and we’ll cover your bill p>
The waitress answered promptly, “One hundred and nine thousand eight hundred dollars p>
Brenna leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her eyes shifting between the two women before her. Judging by their outfits and attitudes, they were definitely from wealthy families—spoiled, entitled, and clearly here to target her. She hadn’t offended them before, yet here they were, going out of their way to humiliate her. Someone was obviously pulling the strings behind the scenes.
“Who do you think you are, barking in front of me? I don’t even know you,” she said.
𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁: ⲅⲁⳑ𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⫺𝖼𝗈𝗆
Before either Sylvie or Vivian could respond, Brenna glanced toward the staircase. A tall man had just arrived, his presence instantly commanding the room. His eyes gleamed like polished obsidian beneath perfectly arched brows. He had a chiseled nose, thin yet defined lips, and a jawline so precise that it looked sculpted by a master artisan.
The man frowned as he surveyed the scene, his handsome face darkened by unmistakable displeasure. It was clear he had already pieced together what was happening.
And yet, even with such a stunning man in the room, Brenna remained unaffected. A handsome face wouldn’t distract her from the fools still yapping in front of her.
Sylvie and Vivian, not seeing the man behind them, were fuming. Vivian, seething from Brenna’s insult, raised her hand, ready to slap Brenna across the face.
But the next second, a firm hand gripped her wrist, stopping her. Vivian’s breath caught as she turned sharply, ready to lash out—until her eyes locked onto the man holding her back. Her heart sank.
“E-Ethan?” she stammered.
Vivian stood frozen, confusion flashing across her face. Wasn’t Ethan supposed to be in a high-level meeting at the Mitchell Group now? A chill ran through her as she met Ethan’s cold, indifferent eyes. It was as if she had been plunged into freezing water.