Chapter 12
12:
Christina sat beside Davina, her laughter spilling out like a bell—light and easy. She wore confidence like a second skin, and the soft charm in her smile only added to her grace. Already named the winner, she seemed to shine even brighter, effortlessly drawing eyes toward her.
Katie couldn’t help but notice how the spotlight had shifted to Christina. A few of the men were even looking at Christina with something close to admiration, maybe even respect, which only stirred her jealousy more. How did someone like Christina—just an unwanted woman—end up stealing the spotlight?
Rather than acknowledge Christina’s talents, Katie clung to the idea that something shady was going on behind the scenes. In her mind, Christina hadn’t won on skill and had clearly made some backdoor deal with the shooting range staff.
“I’ve gotta admit, I didn’t expect Christina to pull that off,” Yolanda commented, her tone tinged with feigned warmth. “First place. Even beat Mr. Scott. She’s kind of the star right now, isn’t she?” Though the words came wrapped in admiration, Yolanda’s glance flicked toward Katie, a spark of mischief behind her eyes.
And just as Yolanda expected, Katie snapped, bitterness sharp in her voice, “Oh, come on! Who knows what kind of strings she pulled to come out on top? A plain nobody like her beating a reigning champ? That doesn’t add up. Bet she slept her way to the championship with the organizers.”
Brendon shifted in his seat, his expression clouding. Her words made it sound like he had been betrayed.
“That’s a bit much,” Yolanda said under her breath, her words calculated to fan the flame while appearing to defend Christina. “Christina doesn’t really seem like that type.”
Katie let out a laugh that held no humor. “Don’t be fooled. The second she signed those divorce papers, she started parading around like she was auditioning for attention. Skirts shorter. Makeup bolder. She’s desperate, and everyone knows it.”
Before Katie could spit out more venom, Brendon interjected, “That’s enough. Eat.” His tone left no room for argument.
𝗙𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲: g⍺𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧼ⅽ𝗼𝗺
“What? I’m just telling the truth. Why are you snapping at me like I said something out of line?” Katie retorted, shooting him a glare.
Seeing another chance to soften the mood, Yolanda reached out and lightly touched Brendon’s sleeve, her voice low and calm as she said, “Brendon, go easy…”
on Katie, will you? She’s still young. She blurts things out without thinking. She’s not trying to hurt anyone.”
“You’re always making excuses for her. That’s exactly why she keeps pushing the line,” he said, letting out a quiet sigh, the edge in his voice dulled significantly.
Just then, the manager of the Morfort Restaurant stepped into view, commanding instant attention like a ripple through still water.
Legends swirled around the establishment’s enigmatic owner—a figure whose reach extended far beyond the polished walls of the restaurant. Years ago, a haughty noble family had tried to undermine the Morfort Restaurant’s business, mocking its prestige. Predictably, their arrogance was short-lived. Not long after their audacious actions against the Morfort Restaurant, the family’s fortune crumbled, their reputation shredded beyond repair. A family accustomed to luxury and privilege had failed to handle the downfall—some had committed suicide or gone mad. Those who clung to survival did so on the edge of society—begging, scavenging, shadows of their former selves.
The Morfort Restaurant’s owner’s identity remained cloaked in secrecy, but everyone knew the power behind it was not to be trifled with. No one was foolish enough to mess with even the servers, much less the manager. To the guests, the manager wasn’t just a restaurant employee. It was like seeing the trusted envoy of a king.
With elegance in his step and a courteous smile, the manager scanned the hall before proceeding with silent authority.
“I think he’s coming over here,” Yolanda whispered, barely able to contain her anticipation.
Katie was even more thrilled, her eyes fixed on the smiling manager. Could it be that the mysterious owner of the Morfort Restaurant had taken notice of her? And if that were true, maybe the owner was even on par with Dylan—or at least close.
Katie sat straighter, shoulders back, lips slightly parted. She was ready for the spotlight to find her.
.
.
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