Gideon’s face remained impassive the entire time. Each blow he delivered was as merciless as if he were some wild beast, incapable of empathy and in desperate need of taming.
The young attendant couldn’t even form words to beg for mercy–his plea was cut short as Gideon, looking every bit the executioner, slammed his fist into the man’s jaw, knocking out his molars. Blow after blow, until the attendant was barely conscious, then a savage kick shattered his kneecap.
He crumpled to the ground, writhing and twitching in agony like a wounded animal.
For a moment, the room was swallowed by a chilling, blood–soaked silence. No one intervened; everyone watched with bleak indifference, as if this brutality were simply another spectacle.
It was the same cold indifference they’d shown earlier, when Celestine was
humiliated at the entrance.
She stood with her fists balled at her sides, making no move to stop Gideon. The man hadn’t just insulted her–he’d dragged Gideon’s name through the mud too. If Gideon hadn’t acted first, she would’ve had him pinned to the floor, slapping him
senseless herself.
When Gideon finally paused, Celestine felt a restless urge prickling beneath her
skin.
He glanced over, as if reading her thoughts, the bloodthirst in his eyes softening just a shade. “Want to take a turn, Miss Grateful? It’s bad luck to go to bed with a grudge.”
His words–so inappropriately gentle, so considerate in this moment–caught her off guard. Was she truly that angry? Apparently so, because without a second thought, she strode forward and slammed her foot into the attendant’s good leg.
The man howled, clutching his knees, his swollen eyes brimming with venom and resentment as he managed to choke out, “Mrs. Fordham, you’re just taking your anger out on me! I was only doing my job–just a routine check! Even Miss Fordham said you weren’t on the list. You can’t do this!”
Celestine let out a cold laugh. “Is that so? Maybe you don’t realize Miss Fordham. and I aren’t exactly friends. And your colleague back there–she’s doing the same job as you but with a world of difference in attitude. Even when I couldn’t produce my invitation, she immediately tried to help and said she’d report for verification.
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Chapter 140
But you? You’re the dog who kept blocking the door, told your security to toss me out, and hurled insults. That’s your job?”
She punctuated her words by driving her heel into his chest, making him yelp in pain.
Chester watched the scene, brows drawn tight, but didn’t step in. Gideon had already gone far enough–Celestine shouldn’t have joined in. If word got out, the Fordham family would look even more vindictive.
He instinctively glanced at Gideon, only to find the man watching Celestine with something disturbingly close to admiration. Chester clenched his fists–he’d suffered for this kind of thing before and wasn’t about to let it happen again.
Forcing his expression neutral, Chester moved in to intervene. “That’s enough, Celly. Everyone’s watching; let’s not overdo it.”
Celestine’s foot froze mid–motion.
The beaten attendant, desperate for any chance to defend himself, seized the moment. “Sir–Mr. Fordham, I swear–I didn’t–It was your secretary who said madam was Mr. Prescott’s-”
He never finished the sentence. Chester’s fist shot out and smashed into his mouth.
“Enough!”
Chester drew his hand back, face stormy. But the attendant, driven by sheer survival instinct, kept trying to speak, his mouth a muffled mess of pleading. Chester’s patience snapped and he hit him again, even harder.
Celestine watched the scene unfold, her expression twisted in bitter amusement.
“Mr. Fordham, that’s quite enough, don’t you think?”
With that, she turned and strode into the hall, leaving the men behind.
Men like him only lost their temper when their own interests were threatened. Disgusting.
Inside, a poised attendant was already waiting to guide her upstairs to the fourth–floor ballroom–a space reserved for the city’s well–heeled ladies to gather, gossip, and forge alliances.
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