“Look at this mess! Do you know how expensive that champagne was?” someone yelled angrily.
“Get up! You don’t belong here!” another voice snapped, dripping with disgust.
I tried to respond, but the searing pain rendered me mute. My mind was hazy, my vision swimming. I could barely move, let alone defend myself.
The next thing I knew, the bodyguard was hauling me up again. His grip was like a vise, and I could feel fresh blood soaking through my torn shirt.
“Miss Kent says if you don’t crawl to her now, she’ll make your life even worse,” he hissed. His tone was low, almost bored, but the weight of his threat was crushing.
Margot wasn’t bluffing. I knew that much. With her connections and influence, she could destroy whatever remnants of my career or life I had left.
My lips curled into a bitter smile as I croaked, “Fine. I’ll go. Just… let me walk on my own.”
But they didn’t let me walk. Instead, the bodyguard looped a rope around my neck like I was some kind of animal and dragged me through the crowd.
The laughter, the pointing, and the whispers of ridicule all blurred together into a cacophony of humiliation. I stumbled behind him, each step heavier than the last.