Chapter 7

In the hotel parking lot, Collen walked with determined steps to his car. Without a word, he pulled open the passenger door slowly.

— Get in.

Chantelle stared at him for a moment, still slightly trembling, then nodded. She climbed inside without hesitation and settled into the bucket seat.

The door closed with a dull thud. Through the tinted glass, the outside world seemed to fade away. No more mocking faces, no more insistent stares. No more of Raphina's bellowing voice. Just silence, at last.

She let out a long sigh, as if finally releasing the air she'd been holding in for too long.

Collen, still impassive, walked around the vehicle and slid behind the wheel. He adjusted his sunglasses, started the engine without any haste, without glancing at her.

Chantelle remained silent, her gaze lost in the monotonous scenery scrolling past the window.

Her heart was still beating at an irregular rhythm, not because of Raphina, but because of the man sitting inches from her. Collen Wilkerson. His silence was neither cold nor warm. It was neutral. Controlled. Unreadable.

And that was the most disturbing part.

She didn't know how to react with him. She didn't even know why he had intervened. Had he witnessed the scene by chance? Had he been there for a business lunch?

Doubt insidiously crept into her mind. The way he had defended her, without asking questions, without giving her a choice, was... strange.

She twisted her fingers on her knees, uncomfortable. An awkward silence settled between them.

She finally cleared her throat softly, as if to break the tension.

— Thank you very much... Mr. Wilkerson.

He didn't answer right away. The sound of the engine seemed to swallow the seconds. Finally, in a low, dry voice, he said:

— I did it because you're Mégane's sister. I couldn't just stand there and do nothing.

His words were sharp, distant. As if he wanted to put things back in their place. As if he especially wanted to avoid getting further involved.

A shiver ran down Chantelle's spine.

— I understand... Thank you anyway, she said softly, her throat tight.

No words were exchanged until he parked in front of her building.

He stopped the engine, without a gesture or a glance. She opened the door, hesitated a second, then got out.

Before closing it, she leaned slightly back in.

— Thank you again, Mr. Wilkerson.

He barely nodded, saying nothing, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

She closed the door and walked slowly toward her building, her heart still clouded with questions.

---

Raphina, still in shock, stood frozen for a moment in the middle of the restaurant. All eyes had turned to him. Some customers whispered, others snickered. A burning shame gnawed at his gut.

He rushed out of the hotel, his face red with anger. Once in his car, he slammed the door violently and sped off.

As soon as he arrived at his cold, vast villa, he threw his jacket onto the sofa and began pacing in his spacious living room.

— Who does she think she is?! he exclaimed, his features distorted with rage.

— She's nothing but a common object, a girl her father wants to sell me... and she dares to humiliate me in front of everyone?!

He slammed his fist on the coffee table.

— And that man? Who the hell was he?!

He replayed the scene over and over. That stranger who had dared to tear Chantelle away from him in front of everyone, without a word, with a calm that sent chills down his spine.

— He'll regret it. She'll regret it. Both of them!

His eyes gleamed with hatred. In his mind, it was no longer about inheritance or family alliance. It had become personal.

---

Across town, Rhonda was peacefully sipping a glass of white wine by the pool, next to Mégane, who was showing her wedding dress models on her phone. The atmosphere was light, relaxed... until her phone vibrated.

She glanced at the screen. Seeing the name Raphina Paterne, she smiled and answered immediately:

— Yes, Raphina, I—

— Shut up, Rhonda! he growled in a cavernous voice. Explain to me right now what happened!

Rhonda straightened up, tense.

— Calm down... what do you mean?

— Your little bastard, that stepdaughter of yours! She humiliated me, Rhonda! She stood up in the middle of lunch, yelled at me, and left with another man! In front of everyone! In front of a whole restaurant full of people!

Rhonda paled slightly. She stood up, moving away from her daughter.

— Wait... another man? Who?

— Some young guy, cold, arrogant, who took her by the arm as if she belonged to him. And you know what she did? She followed him. Like a little bitch. Can you believe it?!

Rhonda pinched the bridge of her nose.

— Raphina... I... I'm sorry. She wasn't the one we wanted to put forward. It's Mégane who's meant for—

— I don't care! You're the one who told me she would obey! That she was docile! And now she throws me out like a dog in front of dozens of witnesses!

— I'll fix this. I promise you.

— You'd better, Rhonda. Because if I lose face one more time because of that girl, I swear I'll crush your little plans like cockroaches. That partnership between our families? Finished!

And he hung up abruptly.

Rhonda stood frozen for a moment, her gaze lost. Raphina's anger was more than serious. She could lose everything.

Mégane, who had only followed part of the conversation, frowned and leaned toward her mother.

— Mom... what's going on? she asked, suspicious. It's that... that bastard again, isn't it? What has she done now?

Rhonda stared straight ahead, as if trying to swallow bad news without choking.

— Don't tell me she caused trouble with Raphina? Mégane continued, her voice rising a notch. No, tell me she didn't dare...

— She humiliated him, Rhonda breathed through clenched teeth. In front of everyone. Right in the middle of the restaurant.

— What?! Mégane jumped to her feet. You mean that little idiot dared to reject Raphina?! Who does she think she is?!

— And that's not all... She got up and left. With a man.

Mégane's blood boiled.

— A man?! Who are you talking about? Who?! Who's this idiot who thinks he can defend her in public?!

Rhonda shook her head.

— Raphina doesn't know him. He didn't even have time to answer. He just arrived... and Chantelle followed him, without hesitating.

— No... no, no, no, no, no, Mégane said, pacing in circles, her hands in her hair. Someone's helping her? Someone's protecting her? But who would do that for her? She has no one, Mom! No one!

Rhonda pressed her lips together, her hard gaze fixed ahead.

— We must never let anyone defend that bitch, she said in a cold, almost cutting voice. That kind of person deserves no protection.

Mégane, arms crossed, nodded vigorously.

— Yes, Mom. And above all, we absolutely have to find out who that man was who dared to interfere. Who does he think he is to do that?

Rhonda straightened up, her fingers gripping the armrest of the chair.

— You're right. We need to investigate seriously. We can't move forward as long as we know nothing about this obstacle.

Without another word, they went back inside the house.