Chapter 4 Insulted

The Quintons' event was held the following evening. As the city's richest family, they invited the aristocratic families in Imperia's elite circle. No one knew exactly why the event was being held, but the guest list alone was enough to make it one of the most sought-after gatherings of the year.

When George saw me, he frowned. "How'd you get in? Slept with another guy?"

I laughed mirthlessly.

The marks on his neck were barely concealed beneath his collar, yet he still had the nerve to accuse me of cheating. Wendy noticed my puffy eyes, and she pulled her collar down to reveal the hickeys on her neck.

"You should know your place, Tiffany. George didn't bring you because this place is out of your league."

In the past, words like that would have sent me running somewhere private to cry for hours. Now I just snickered. "I don't need him to bring me here. He has nothing to do with me."

Leslie immediately stepped forward. "Enough. George hates getting threatened."

I smacked his hand away and stepped forth to confront George. "I canceled the wedding. Let's break up."

George grabbed my hand, and his face fell. "You think you can call that shot? You can't leave me."

A couple in rags barged into the scene, and the wobbling woman slapped me right in front of the guests. She roared, "What are you doing, you ingrate? George helped us get our jobs, and he paid for your brother's tuition. You're going to ruin us!"

The crowd stopped moving and looked at us.

The man beside her, his face deeply lined with age, hurriedly dropped to his knees in front of George. "Please let this slide. Tiffany doesn't know what she's doing."

Someone recognized George and started insulting me. "Is she an idiot? She's making a scene even after she latched on to Mr. George?"

"People who sleep around to wealth always end up like this."

"Wendy looks to be a better match for Mr. George."

I looked at my foster parents coldly and stayed silent.

"See? You can't live without me." George sighed and pretended to be the face of resignation, then he spread his arms. "Stop throwing a tantrum. Come here right now, and I'll forgive you."

I smiled, but there was no warmth in it. I used to tell him about how my foster parents abused me and how I only had to survive with one shirt that winter. Every bit of money I earned had to be hidden, because if they found it, they would take it to buy new shoes for their son.

"No money for tuition? Not our problem!"

"You're costing us money! You should thank us for not killing you!"

"I'll protect you, Tiffany. Will you be my girlfriend?"

I used to think they were my nightmare, while George was my salvation. I was wrong.

Tears burned my eyes. I pointed at him. "You scum! I'd never marry you even if it's the last thing I do!"

"What'd you say, you brat!" My foster mother slapped me, and her husband tried to kick me.

George was stormy. "Don't you get it? You don't get to choose."

At that exact moment, the grand doors of the banquet hall swung open. A powerful voice thundered across the room. "No."

Everyone froze.

"You're the one who doesn't get to choose, you cur."

My breath caught. I knew that voice.

George spun around. The moment he saw who had entered, every trace of colour drained from his face.