The slap

“Oh, her? That’s the mother of your future husband’s baby. Lol.”

The words landed like a slap in the air, sharper than any hand.

Heat rushed to Ivy’s cheeks. A hum of whispers rippled across the lobby. Samantha stiffened, her eyes flashing wide before narrowing to vicious slits.

“What?” she spat. Her voice dripped venom. “What the fuck did you just say, Hailey?”

Hailey let out a chuckle, she was so ready to enjoy the scene unfolding in front of her.

“Oh, right. You weren't in the country. You missed the news. The Cole family announced her and Mr Cole's engagement yesterday. They didn't confirm the reason for the sudden engagement but I think it's because she's pregnant with his child.” Hailey explained with a smirk as she eyed Ivy.

“Tell me, bitch. Is what she said correct? Are you pregnant with his child?!” Samantha said in a low tone, taking a threatening step toward her.

Ivy’s fingers clenched around the strap of her bag, but she forced herself to meet Samantha’s eyes. Her voice trembled at the edges, but it held. “If you have questions, ask him directly. He’ll explain better than I ever could. Don’t drag me into your claims.”

Samantha’s lips curled, cruel. “Don’t get smart with me, little girl. Do you even know who you’re talking about? Do you know who I'm to him?!”

Her words sliced, but Ivy didn’t flinch. Her heart thudded hard, but she lifted her chin higher. “I don’t need to. Whatever you think you are to him… it’s not my concern.”

The faint gasp that rose from onlookers only fed Samantha’s fury. Her smile vanished, replaced by a snarl. She stepped closer, her perfume sharp, her heels clicking with each step. Her voice dropped into a hiss.

“You dare insult me in this building?”

Hailey leaned forward on her elbows, eyes glittering, stoking the fire. “Oh, come on, Samantha. Don’t let her get away with it. You said it yourself, he postponed your meeting. Clearly, he’s distracted… and now we all know why.”

The last words snapped like dry wood in a flame.

Samantha’s face twisted, rage overtaking her. Her breath caught, and then her hand flew.

The slap cracked against Ivy’s cheek, loud, violent, echoing across the marble lobby.

Gasps broke out. A pen clattered to the floor somewhere.

Ivy reeled but did not fall. Her hand rose instinctively to her burning cheek. Her wide eyes flicked between Samantha’s furious glare and Hailey’s delighted smirk. Inside, her chest pounded with shock, confusion, humiliation. But outwardly, she forced herself to stand tall.

Her voice shook, but only faintly. “You had no right-...”

Samantha blinked, as if suddenly realizing what she’d done. Her hand trembled at her side, her chest rising and falling sharply. Still, she doubled down.

But then the sharp command cracked through the lobby like thunder.

“What is happening here?”

The single word froze every whisper, every shifting glance. Even the clack of keyboards from the reception desk cut off as if the building itself had been silenced.

Heads turned in unison.

At the grand entrance of the lobby stood Asher Cole. Tall, broad-shouldered, the immaculate cut of his charcoal suit sharpened by the cold light of morning. His storm-grey eyes swept the scene like a blade, cool and merciless, and the air seemed to thin in his presence.

Ivy’s spine stiffened. Her cheek still burned from Samantha’s slap, but she refused to touch it now, not while those eyes bore into her. She raised her chin, her voice steady though her pulse drummed like a trapped bird.

“She slapped me,” Ivy said, her words carrying in the heavy silence. “In front of everyone.”

Gasps rippled, tension sharpening like glass about to crack.

Samantha recoiled, then staggered into a trembling performance. Her painted lips parted, her eyes filling with wet shine. “That’s not true!” she cried, stepping closer to Asher as if his presence were her shield. “She provoked me, Asher. Twisted everything I said. I only defended myself-...”

Hailey, perched behind the desk, leaned forward, her tone dipped in sugar. “Mr. Cole, it’s true. Ivy was… difficult. Samantha only reacted.” Her eyes glimmered with glee she could barely mask.

Ashe gave a look at Ivy. Her red cheek and those tears that she is trying so hard to hold in says everything he needs to know. But he remembers their morning interactions and his mind is clouded.

Ivy took a step forward, the fire in her chest pushing past the humiliation. “Check the CCTV footage,” she demanded, her voice trembling with force, not fear. “The truth is there. She hit me. Unprovoked.”

The crowd stirred, exchanging nervous glances. Some shifted uncomfortably; others looked toward the black dome of the camera above, silently willing Asher to act.

But Samantha was faster.

Her body quivered, her hands shaking as she reached out with a pitiful sob. “Asher, no. Don’t humiliate me like that. Please.” Her tears streamed artfully, a performance that once might have fooled anyone. “You know me. I’d never hurt anyone. Don’t believe her lies.”

Her voice cracked, rehearsed fragility woven into each syllable. A few onlookers wavered, unsure where the truth lay.

Ivy’s fists curled tight at her sides. Rage seared beneath her skin, but her voice emerged calm, controlled, edged with steel. “Don’t let her manipulate you. Everyone saw what happened.”

The plea carried more than defiance; it carried a history of silences she refused to swallow again.

Asher’s gaze finally locked on her. Those storm-blue eyes, usually so guarded, cut into her with cold precision. For a fleeting second, Ivy thought she glimpsed something else, hesitation, recognition, maybe even concern, but then it was gone, shuttered behind frost.

His voice was low, dangerous, a verdict disguised as a question.

“Why,” Asher asked, each word heavy as stone, “did you push her to that point? To slap you?”

The accusation hit Ivy harder than Samantha’s palm ever could.

Her breath caught. The lobby blurred for a heartbeat.

‘He thinks this is my fault.’

Her throat tightened, but she forced herself not to flinch, not to falter. The sting on her cheek burned, but it was nothing compared to the ache settling deeper, heavier, in her chest.

Still, she lifted her chin. She would not break, not here, not under their stares, not under his cold judgment.

“I already said once that I didn't do anything wrong.” Ivy said through gritted teeth while looking directly into his eyes. Her eyes held accusations which were making it hard for him to maintain eye contact.

“Asher, she humiliated me. In front of everyone. I need an apology.” Samantha said, her voice shaking as she moved closer to Asher. She hugged his bicep.

“I'm not apologizing to you for anythi-....” Ivy tried to defend herself but she was cut off. Her voice filled with disbelief as she looked at Asher with a frown.

“Apologize to her now, Ivy.”