Chapter 62

Isabella moved forward, attempting to explain. "Please listen—"

"Back off!" Cassandra shoved Isabella violently.

Isabella lost her balance and slammed into the wall, a crimson bruise blooming on her forehead.

Victoria lunged to restrain Cassandra by the wrist. "How dare you—"

Without warning, Cassandra seized a handful of Victoria's hair and raked her nails across Victoria's face. "Victoria, who the hell do you think you are? Just a gold-digger who married her dead husband's brother!"

The room plunged into stunned silence. As the Whitmore family's influence had grown, Victoria's scandalous past had been carefully erased. Now Cassandra had ripped open old wounds in front of everyone.

The murmurs spread like wildfire. "Victoria married her brother-in-law?"

"You didn't know? Her first husband was the elder Whitmore brother. When he died, she seduced the younger one."

"Sleeping with both brothers? How revolting!"

Enraged, Victoria attacked Cassandra, yanking her hair viciously. "I'll rip your lying tongue out!"

The women became feral, clawing and screaming. Theodore tried to intervene, but Frederick punched him square in the face, sending him reeling with blood gushing from his nose.

Meanwhile, Penelope grabbed Isabella, and the two began shoving each other violently. The elegant gathering dissolved into utter chaos as both families joined the brawl.

Margaret stood frozen, watching the nightmare unfold.

"Enough! Stop this madness!" she shrieked.

CRASH!

The sound of splintering wood echoed as Victoria and Cassandra collided with the gift table. Delicate crystal ornaments shattered across the marble floor.

"My heirlooms!" Margaret wailed, her voice cracking.

In the frenzy, the women knocked over an ornate box. Nathaniel's precious gift, "The Lady in Bloom", tumbled to the ground and was trampled beneath their feet.

Margaret collapsed to her knees, devastated. "The painting! Stop this! You're destroying my birthday!"

Behind the heavy velvet drapes, Harrison observed the pandemonium with icy detachment.

This was her gift to Victoria.

She'd orchestrated everything—the maid "accidentally" spilling wine on Penelope's gown had been the perfect catalyst.

Harrison studied the chaos with clinical precision. No one understood their hypocrisy, malice, and self-interest better than she did. Had she been the target today, both families would have united to crucify her.

Yet when their own interests were threatened? They turned on each other like rabid dogs.

Margaret's eightieth birthday party had certainly become... memorable. Harrison lowered her lashes, masking the predatory glint in her eyes.

Suddenly, a deep, velvety voice cut through the noise. "Are you going to remove your hand?"

Harrison stiffened, abruptly aware that she and Nathaniel were concealed behind the curtains. Her palm still covered his mouth, her skin brushing against his sinfully soft lips.

She jerked her hand away, confused. Nathaniel wasn't part of her carefully laid plans.

Why was he here? He should have been with Isabella.

Nathaniel loosened his tie, his voice rough. "Harrison."

He said her name.

"What?"

Those smoldering eyes locked onto hers. "I'm burning up."

Burning?

Harrison's pulse stuttered when she recognized the hunger in his gaze. His eyes were dark with desire, pupils dilated with primal need.

Her stomach plummeted.

Oh god. He must have inhaled the remnants of the aphrodisiac gas lingering in the room.