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Chapter_9
The Cube was one of the most exclusive private clubs in Amber Bay, a haven for the rich and powerful. In a place like this, the fate of many ordinary people could be altered with a single decision made by one of its guests.
The private room was crowded. Abigail lounged with an air of nonchalance, more relaxed than even some of the men present. She raised an eyebrow and asked, “Oliver, did you bring me here just so Alexander could yell at me?”
Alexander, expressionless, leaned against the sofa. His legs were crossed, and the dim light illuminated only his chest, leaving his face cloaked in shadow, giving him an almost mysterious presence.
Oliver Vanderbilt, Abigail’s brother, frowned and muttered in a low voice, “Apologize to Ms. Morgan, and this will all blow over.”
He thought to himself, Everyone knows how Alexander spoils Getty. I’ve let Abigail get away with too much, but this time, she’s really crossed the line.
Abigail shrugged carelessly. “No. I hit her because I felt like it. Oliver, she deserved it.”
Getty’s face flushed with anger. She jumped up abruptly but quickly winced and sat back down, clutching her foot in pain. “Don’t push it! I was with Alexander before he married her!”
Abigail sneered, her tone biting. “If that’s the case, then they’ve been together for over a decade. Where were you then?”
Getty shot back, “That’s different! She’s just an orphan. The Kennedys took pity on her and let her stay…”
Before she could finish, Alexander slammed his wine glass onto the table, the sharp shattering sound reverberating through the room. Everyone fell silent as they saw his face twisted in a grim expression, his anger unmistakable.
He turned to Abigail, his voice low and dangerous. “Apologize.”
Abigail raised an eyebrow, unphased. She spoke slowly but firmly, “No.”
Oliver sighed, exasperated. “I’ll apologize for her. You know how she is—Abigail would rather die than say sorry.”
Alexander scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “You want to apologize for her? Fine. Drink all the wine on the table.”
There were at least twenty bottles of spirits on the table, their contents gleaming menacingly.
Yet Oliver, without hesitation, nodded. “Okay.”
Abigail’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Oliver, are you insane? Apologize to her? She doesn’t deserve it!”
“Shut up!” Oliver snapped at her before grabbing a bottle from the table.
Before he could take a drink, Abigail snatched the bottle from his hand and smashed it onto the floor. The glass shattered with a deafening crack, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Don’t drink!” Abigail’s voice was sharp and resolute. “I hit her. This has nothing to do with you. Alexander, if you’ve got the guts, come at me. Show me what you’ve got. You might as well kill me today if you can!”
In an instant, several burly bodyguards rushed into the room, surrounding them. The tension in the air grew thick, and Abigail knew, with cold clarity, that Alexander was serious.
Oliver was caught in a dilemma. He didn’t want to clash with Alexander, but he didn’t want Abigail to suffer either. She knew that in the end, he would bear the brunt of whatever happened next.
Taking a deep breath, Abigail bent down, picking up a bottle. “Fine. You want an apology? Alexander, don’t bother. I slapped her, so I’ll make it up to her… double. She’ll love that, right?”
Without another word, she raised the bottle and smashed it against her own head.
Just as the bottle shattered, Quinn stepped into the room, her eyes wide as she took in the chaotic scene before her.
