Olivia forced herself to stay calm. There was no way there were surveillance cameras in the ballroom—this bitch had to be bluffing.
She gave a sharp little laugh. "So what if there are? The fact is, you bumped into me."
Sophia knew Olivia wouldn't admit defeat until she was cornered. "Since Miss Morgan sounds so certain, then you shouldn't be afraid to check the footage, right?" Her brows arched lightly. "Why don't we let everyone here be witnesses and see who's telling the truth?"
Olivia bit down on her lip, caught in Sophia's trap. Who was this woman, and why was she targeting her so relentlessly?
"Miss," Andrew stepped in, sensing things were spiraling. "Olivia is young and impulsive. I'm sure this was just a misunderstanding. Allow me, as her father, to apologize on her behalf."
Sophia's expression stayed cool, as if the man in front of her weren't her mother's killer but some irrelevant stranger. Inside, though, she repeated his name like a vow. Andrew. Six years since she'd fled overseas in disgrace—and now she was back in the open, ready for revenge.
Her eyes curved faintly, though there was no warmth in them. "A misunderstanding? Mr. Morgan, you certainly have a gift with words. False accusations become 'no big deal' just because you say so?"
Andrew's face darkened. Who was this crazy woman? Acting all high and mighty just because she had a pretty face? The Morgan family might be struggling, but in City A it still carried weight—not someone she could afford to offend.
"Why be so aggressive, Miss?" Andrew said, voice heavy with warning. "What I just said was perfectly reasonable. Why not give each other a way out instead of making everyone lose face?"
Sophia almost laughed. No wonder Andrew had fooled her all those years ago. That righteous, dignified act of his could be convincing—even some of the onlookers were wavering.
"Is Mr. Morgan threatening me?" she asked, feigning fear. "I'm just a defenseless woman. How could I stand against the power of the Morgan family? If you say it's a misunderstanding, then I guess it must be."
Andrew's fists clenched, a flash of cruelty in his eyes. Who the hell was this woman? She wasn't easy to deal with, that much was clear. And now, with her words, she was making him look like the bully.
"You're not thinking of hitting me, are you, Mr. Morgan?" Sophia suddenly stepped back a few paces, her voice edged with panic.
Heads turned toward Andrew. He stood there with fists balled tight, his face red with rage, looking every bit like a man about to strike someone.
Andrew seethed inside. He hadn't intended to hit her, but now—damn it—he almost wanted to. He shot Olivia a furious glare. This was all her fault.
Watching him fume and struggle to contain himself, Sophia let the corner of her mouth twitch in the faintest of smirks. She was about to end the verbal spar when a new voice cut through the air.
"Mr. Morgan is the head of the Morgan family," the man said, tone polite but laced with cold authority. "Surely he wouldn't stoop to striking someone in public—right?"
The sharp timbre of the voice carried both warning and impatience.
Sophia turned toward the sound, surprise flickering in her eyes. It was the man who'd been watching her earlier. She didn't know why he was stepping in, but one thing was certain: he clearly despised Andrew. And the enemy of her enemy was a friend.
She curved her lips in a subtle gesture of thanks.
Lucas, however, felt the weight of everyone's attention shift toward him and found it irritating. But when he caught that faint smile directed at him, the edge of his mood softened, his usual armor of ice strangely unsettled.
His brow twitched as he wondered why he'd spoken up at all.
Andrew never imagined Lucas would actually speak up for that woman. Rage simmered beneath his calm mask as he silently cursed Olivia. Tonight's goal had been to cozy up to Lucas. Instead, not only had they failed, but they'd managed to provoke his displeasure.
Forcing a dry laugh, Andrew said, "Mr. Hilton is absolutely right. Of course I'd never do something so reckless and self-destructive."
Behind his back, he tugged Olivia's sleeve. This was her mess—she'd better clean it up.
Olivia understood the signal, though resentment burned in her chest. Still, under Lucas's cold, penetrating gaze, she didn't dare push further.
"It was a misunderstanding," she said tightly. "I tripped on my gown and thought she'd bumped into me. I spoke out of turn. I hope this lady won't take offense."
Sophia's eyes gleamed. So, one word from Mr. Hilton in his wheelchair, and Andrew was forced to throw his own daughter under the bus. Interesting. Very interesting.
But she wasn't about to let them off easy.
"Seems Miss Morgan doesn't apologize often," Sophia said lightly. "You're not very practiced at it."
Gasps rippled through the ballroom. Was this mystery woman really going to go head-to-head with the Morgan family?
"Let it go," a smooth male voice interrupted. From the second-floor balcony, Devin Scott descended the stairs, golden mask in hand, a silent declaration of his status as host. "Miss… may I ask your name?"
"Gray," Sophia replied evenly.
"Miss Gray," Devin said with a cool smile. "Every guest here tonight honors my family by attending. I'd hate for an unpleasant scene to spoil the evening. Perhaps, for the sake of the Scott family, you could let this matter rest?"
Polite words, but the arrogance underneath was obvious. He wasn't asking her to give the Scotts face—he was reminding her that they were the ones granting her face.
Sophia, however, never responded well to pressure. Her lips curved in a faint smile. "The Scott family's face is far too valuable for a nobody like me. I could never presume to give or take it away."
Devin's expression chilled. He'd thought her clever. Instead, she was reckless. To stir up trouble on Scott territory—did she think the family's name meant nothing?
Before he could speak again, another voice cut in, low and steady. "This is my sister. If she has offended the Scotts, I ask your pardon. But make no mistake—my sister will not be bullied by the Morgans."
Harper appeared at Sophia's side, clutching her hand. She whispered, "Don't be scared. I called my brother."
William Carter's icy gaze swept to Olivia. "Second Miss Morgan, is an apology really so hard to choke out?"
A murmur swept the room. Everyone in City A knew William would do anything for his beloved sister Harper. But who was this other "sister"? Whoever she was, William clearly meant it. Even Devin hesitated and stayed silent.
All eyes shifted to Olivia. With no one left to shield her, she ground her teeth and spat out, "Sorry."
Sophia accepted it with graceful magnanimity—then promptly detonated a scandal. Smiling sweetly, she said in a voice loud enough for half the hall to hear:
"I heard Second Miss Morgan had an affair with her sister's fiancé Ethan six years ago. On the very night of the eldest Miss Morgan's engagement party, the two of you schemed to sell her off to a lecherous old man in exchange for profit. You hoped to ruin her reputation and take her place in the marriage alliance. Luckily, she escaped. But you spread rumors she eloped with another man. Funny, though—it's been six years, and you and Mr. Trump still haven't made it down the aisle, have you?"
The room erupted in shocked whispers. Faces turned, eyes wide with scandal.
Sophia didn't bother to stay and watch the fallout. She simply tugged Harper's hand and walked out, unhurried.
William watched them go, the corners of his lips curving with indulgent amusement. To the room, he said mildly, "My little sister repeats idle gossip sometimes. Don't take it to heart." Then he, too, left.
Andrew stood frozen, face ashen. With nothing else to do, he parroted William's line stiffly: "Just rumors. Baseless gossip."
But inside, his fury boiled. Damn that woman. How the hell did she know all of that?!