"Lois Simmons, apologize to Selene. Now." His voice was low, each word edged with barely contained fury. "I've been too lenient with you all these years. It's made you reckless. You've gotten so out of line that you're shoving people, throwing tantrums like a child."
"Do you have any idea how important this showcase is to her? If she's injured, if it jeopardizes the jewelry partnerships that follow, can you bear that responsibility?"
His furious eyes bore into me. His gaze swept over the reddening skin on my arm where I'd hit the display case, swept over the pain I was barely holding behind my eyes, and dismissed all of it. As if the bruises on my body and the ache in my chest were beneath his notice.
I watched him shield Selene in his arms, and something inside me sank, degree by degree, until all that remained was cold.
I met his gaze steadily, my voice measured. "The one who owes an apology is Selene. She insulted my mother in front of everyone. She called her useless, said she couldn't even hold on to her own brand. I refuse to swallow that."
"And while we're at it, Samuel, don't you think you owe me an explanation about how my mother's jewelry patents were leaked?"