Seeing Ryan speak in such a manner, Beauty had already pieced most of it together.
Before this, she had only suspected Nathalie might be behind it—after all, she was the only person in all of New York who held a grudge against her.
Her expression instantly shifted from gentle to icy.
She lifted her gaze to Nathalie and spoke, each word deliberate: "So it really was you who arranged that incident.
How despicable!"
"Me? This time, you—" Before Nathalie could finish, Ryan shot her a sharp glare, forcing her to swallow the rest of her words.
"I'm sorry, Beauty.
Nathalie was in the wrong this time.
I've already apologized to Mr. Marson, but he insisted we come here to apologize to you.
We don't expect your forgiveness, but we will take responsibility for our mistakes.
I heard that besides you, another gentleman was injured and is still in the hospital.
We'll visit him as well.
I'll cover all the expenses—it's the least I can do for now."
