“Holy crap,” someone whispered. “This guy’s got guts. He just talked back to Mr. Watts! Guess he doesn’t plan on staying in the capital after this.”
Another muttered, “It’s just an agreement. What’s the big deal? He’s really gonna offend Miss over that? He’s digging his own grave.”
Trevor's POV
“Yeah, exactly! Marrying into the Youngs is every man’s dream in this city. Who cares whose last name the kid takes?”
The room buzzed with whispers and laughter. The more they talked, the smugger Mr. Watts looked.
“You hear that?” he sneered. “You’re just some broke nobody with no power, no background, and you’re talking about dignity? What a joke.”
Even so, their mockery barely fazed me. In fact, it almost made me laugh.
Sure, the Youngs were one of the wealthiest families in the capital; no one could deny that. But when it came to legacy and influence, they were nothing compared to our family.
Money meant nothing when it was stacked against real power.
I leveled my gaze at him. “Mr. Watts, I’ll warn you one last time. Step aside. Now. Or deal with the consequences.”
Maybe it was the edge in my tone, or the energy that slipped through, but for a split second, his smirk faltered.