Chapter 330

Sylvia Montgomery played the virtuous heroine before the crowd.

Evelyn Carter had no patience for her theatrics. "Move," she snapped.

Sylvia hadn't anticipated such defiance. Her lips curled in mockery. "Evelyn, you must answer for your actions."

"Striking someone without cause is unacceptable. Apologize now, or I'll have security escort you out."

The spectators murmured in agreement, most siding with Sylvia.

"This isn't a playground for tantrums! Hitting people? The audacity!"

"She owes an apology. Don't make this uglier than it already is."

"Ms. Montgomery is being generous. Show some respect."

Evelyn remained silent, her gaze steady.

Sylvia reveled in the crowd's support, sneering at Evelyn.

"Well? Say you're sorry."

Evelyn's patience snapped. "I won't apologize. She earned every bit of that slap."

Kimberly Fairchild wiped fake tears, playing the victim. "It's fine, Sylvia. I'm sure she didn't mean it."

Her performance only fueled Sylvia's outrage.

"Last chance. Apologize, or I'll have you thrown out immediately."

Evelyn's laugh was icy. "Try it."

Sylvia's fingers flew across her phone. "Security to the east terrace. We have a disturbance."

Hanging up, she smirked. "You brought this on yourself, Evelyn."

A few guests recognized Evelyn's connection to Nathan Sterling and tried mediating. "Ms. Montgomery, perhaps let this go?"

Sylvia scoffed. "Let it go? After she assaulted someone?"

Seeing her resolve, they backed off—no point angering either powerful woman.

Evelyn calmly retrieved her phone. "I didn't hit her unprovoked. The proof is right here."

The crowd buzzed with anticipation.

"She recorded it? Play it!"

"Let's hear the truth!"

Kimberly paled, lunging for the device. Evelyn sidestepped effortlessly.

Then Kimberly's voice rang out, crystal clear:

"Everyone knows you're just a gold-digging mistress. Does Nathan Sterling even remember your name?"

The crowd's expressions shifted instantly.

"Holy hell. She called her a mistress to her face!"

"That slap was overdue."

"What trash talks like that at a gala?"

"Check the guest list—I bet she crashed."

Sylvia's face darkened. She hadn't counted on Evelyn's recording.

Kimberly shrank under the glares, her earlier bravado crumbling.

Evelyn pocketed her phone. "Still want that apology, Sylvia?"

The security team arrived, hesitating at the tense scene.

Sylvia's jaw tightened. This wasn't the humiliation she'd planned—but it was the one she'd gotten.