Chapter 2

I looked at Clara, wine still dripping from my face, and let out a cold laugh.

"And what if I refuse?"

Clara's triumphant expression instantly froze, clearly not expecting any resistance. The surrounding guests whispered among themselves, some looking at me with pity.

"This girl is done for. How dare she challenge Clara?"

"Poor thing, so young. She's going to get destroyed by Eclipse Group."

Their concern almost made me laugh out loud. Eclipse? The Eclipse they thought was so powerful was nothing more than my father's subsidiary.

Clara quickly regained her composure, stepped closer, her voice rising with indignation.

"What did you say? You just refused? Do you know who you're talking to?"

Without warning, she raised her hand to slap me.

I caught her swinging wrist and twisted it lightly, making her lose balance. Clara stumbled backward, her high heels failing her as she crashed heavily into the birthday cake table. She let out a sharp scream.

The room fell dead silent.

"You... you bitch! You actually dared to touch me!" Clara struggled to get up, clutching her side where she'd hit the table edge. "You're so dead!"

"Service staff," I called out. "Please clear away these birthday decorations. I need the room restored to its original state."

A young server looked nervously between Clara and me, clearly torn about what to do.

Clara pushed herself up from the floor.

"Don't you dare touch my birthday setup!" she shrieked. "This is MY party! MY room!"

"I told you, this hotel belongs to Eclipse! I can use any room I want!"

"Listen carefully," I said, taking a step toward her. "If you dare cross me again, it won't be as simple as a little tumble."

Clara's face drained of color. "You wouldn't dare—"

The elevator chime interrupted her protest.

The doors slid open to reveal a group of men in black suits flanking a single figure. He walked with measured steps, nearly six feet three inches tall, in a perfectly tailored suit.

Gold-rimmed glasses glinted in the light as his cold gray-blue eyes surveyed the scene.

Clara's tears instantly appeared.

"Tristan!" She rushed toward him. "This... this woman just attacked me! She pushed me into my birthday cake and threatened me! You have to help me!"

Tristan's arm automatically went around her shoulders, his cold gaze shifting to me.

As he approached, I got my first good look at the man my father had chosen for me.

I had to admit, he was indeed striking. He had that air of untouchable authority that came with money and power.

"So you're Tristan. I'm your fiancée, Avery. My father said you were 'quite handsome.' I suppose he was right. You're certainly... presentable."

My gaze shifted to Clara, still clinging to his chest.

"However, your taste in people leaves much to be desired."

Whispers immediately started.

"Did she just say—"

"His fiancée? Tristan has a fiancée?"

"If she's his fiancée, then what does that make Clara?"

Tristan's expression grew serious.

"My mother arranged an engagement before she died," he said. "But now that she's gone, that arrangement died with her. I don't know who you think you are, but I would never marry you."

His gaze was sharp as a blade, sweeping over my wine-stained clothes, his tone growing more disdainful.

"Look at yourself now, like some crazy woman. Even if there was some nonexistent engagement, do you think I'd marry a savage woman with no basic manners?"

Tristan let out a cold laugh, his voice full of mockery.

"First you unreasonably seized this private room, then you attacked Clara. I've seen plenty of women like you. You're just trying to climb the social ladder."

Clara immediately seized the opportunity, one hand still possessively on Tristan's arm.

"See? What are you anyway! Just some delusional girl dreaming of marrying into wealth! Tristan would never lower himself to someone like you..."

She pointed disgustedly at my wine-stained appearance.

Clara's confidence and Tristan's clear rejection emboldened the crowd, who murmured their agreement.

"Yeah, look how she's dressed, like she's going to a funeral."

"Such poor manners, attacking people over a misunderstanding."

"Clara's right. Some people just don't know their place."

I listened to their chorus of disdain with growing amusement.

"Fine then," I said, looking directly at Tristan.

"Since you find me so unsuitable, and I have to say the feeling is mutual, let's just call off this engagement. Go back and tell your father to cancel it."