Chapter 8

Violette's POV

The moment the private room door clicked shut, I felt Grant Corporation's financial lifeline sever along with it.

"William... this is all my fault..." Isabel clutched at William's sleeve the instant Andre left, her sobs tearing through the air. "I've ruined the company's partnership... Old Mr. Grant is going to be furious. I swear I didn't mean for this to happen—I was just so terrified. I had no idea things would turn out this way..."

William pulled her into his embrace, patting her back with tender reassurance while his face twisted with contempt and arrogance. "Don't cry, Isabel. None of this is your fault. We don't need some small-time supplier anyway. The Grant family has never begged for scraps. Andre Fraser? He's nobody. Oakland has plenty of other material vendors. Tomorrow I'll have procurement find us someone better."

Watching this display of oblivious bravado made rage surge through my veins like liquid fire.

He had absolutely no understanding of Andre's position in the supply chain. He thought this was grocery shopping—if one store doesn't work out, just try the next?

Andre controlled the shipping routes through Nottingham Port. Along the entire East Coast, only he could secure the lowest tariffs and fastest clearance approvals. Without him, Grant Corporation's production costs would double overnight, profit margins would plunge into the red, and the entire production line would collapse within two weeks.

I couldn't take it anymore. I strode forward and yanked William away from Isabel's side.

Crack.

I swung with every ounce of strength I possessed, my palm connecting with his left cheek in a blow that eclipsed the previous two. The impact reverberated through my hand, leaving it numb and tingling. William's head snapped violently to the side, a thin trail of blood immediately seeping from the corner of his mouth.

"Violette!" William clutched his face, roaring in outrage.

"Shut up!" I jabbed my finger toward his nose, my voice glacial with fury. "You two are the most disgusting idiots I've ever encountered. You think Andre is some street vendor? Without him, the company won't be able to make payroll next month. You haven't just assaulted him—you've destroyed the Grant family's last lifeline."

I stared at that moronic face, feeling that even one more word would be a waste of breath.

"Since you're so principled, so utterly unconcerned about his partnership, fine." I stepped back with a cold laugh. "I'm done with this mess. You'd better start thinking about how you're going to explain to that grandfather who dotes on you so much why you drove Grant Corporation toward bankruptcy—all for a woman who can't stop lying."

Without another word, I turned toward the exit. I couldn't bear to spend one more second in this room reeking of pathetic desperation.

"Miss Morrison!"

A piercing shriek erupted behind me.

Then came a heavy thud.

I stopped and turned around.

Isabel had dropped to her knees on the carpet littered with spilled liquor and broken glass.

Heedless of the shards cutting into her skin, she scrambled forward on all fours and seized the hem of my dress in a death grip.

"Miss Morrison, please don't leave!" Isabel tilted her head back, tears streaming down her face in torrents, her complexion pale as parchment. "Everything is my fault—every single thing. You can hit me, scream at me, anything you want. Just please don't take your anger at me out on William. He only acted this way because he loves me too much, because he cares so deeply about this baby..."

She sobbed harder, yanking at my dress with increasing desperation, attempting to manipulate me through this grotesque display of self-abasement.

"Let go of me." I looked down at her with revulsion, trying to wrench my dress from her grip.

"I won't! Not unless you promise to talk to Mr. Fraser, to convince him not to blame William!" Isabel's wailing intensified as she clung to the fabric with both hands. "Miss Morrison, you're so capable—you can save the company, I know you can. Please, I'm begging you... I'll kowtow to you..."

"Isabel! Get up!"

Seeing the woman he loved kneeling on the floor in supplication, blood staining her knees, William's eyes immediately flooded with crimson.

He charged forward like a rabid animal, hauling Isabel up from the ground and positioning her protectively behind him.

In the next instant, he whirled around, his bloodshot eyes locking onto me as he thrust both hands forward and shoved my shoulders with brutal force.

Already unsteady from my earlier twisted ankle, I lost my balance completely under the violent push. My body tilted backward.

My high heels scraped against the polished marble floor with a harsh screech.

I closed my eyes, bracing for the searing pain of my skull cracking against the ground.

The anticipated agony never came.

A pair of strong arms caught me from behind, steadying my waist with firm support.

The familiar scent of cold cedar mingled with a faint trace of tobacco enveloped me instantly. I jerked my eyes open and found myself staring into a pair of deep brown eyes.

Roderick.

What was he doing here?

My brain went momentarily blank. Instinctive defensive mechanisms kicked in, and I immediately raised my hands to push against his chest.

But the moment my palms made contact with his solid muscles, he tightened his grip and pulled me forcibly back against him.

His strength was formidable. His fingers clamped around my waist like iron manacles, and through the thin fabric of my dress, I could feel the searing heat of his palms.

His expression was terrifyingly dark. Beneath the sharp ridge of his brow, those eyes harbored emotions I couldn't decipher.

"Ah—" I couldn't suppress a sharp intake of breath as his grip compressed the bones of my waist painfully.

Hearing my reaction, his jawline tensed. The pressure of his arms eased slightly, though he continued supporting me steadily, preventing my fall.

The atmosphere in the private room turned bizarre with this man's sudden appearance.

Isabel peered out from behind William, her gaze traveling back and forth between Roderick and me.

Taking in Roderick's devastatingly handsome features and impeccably tailored expensive suit, unmistakable jealousy flickered in her eyes.

Then, as if she'd stumbled upon some earth-shattering secret, her voice suddenly rose to a shrill pitch.

"Miss Morrison, who is this gentleman?" She covered her mouth in exaggerated shock and wounded innocence. "No wonder you've been so cold to William lately, so insistent on divorce. I see now—you've already... you've been seeing someone else on the side?"

Her malicious insinuation acted like a fuse, instantly igniting William's fury.

William stared fixedly at Roderick's hand resting on my waist, the muscles in his face convulsing violently. His masculine pride had suffered a devastating blow in this moment.

"Violette, you whore!" William jabbed his finger at my nose, spittle flying as he erupted. "You stand there spouting about dedication to the Grant family, but all this time you've been screwing around with some man behind my back! You've been using Grant family money to keep a boy toy—how dare you face the Grant family after this?"