The commotion in the hall pulled every eye toward the staircase. The family hurried up, tense and on edge.
“My trophy…” Olivia rushed to the mess, hugging her trophy tightly. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
“Charlotte, what are you doing?” Steven’s voice was stiff, his face drained of color as he stood frozen in shock.
“Cleaning up,” Charlotte replied coolly. She barely glanced Steven’s way, then let her grip loosen. Several certificates slipped from her hand, landing in the trash with a soft thud.
Olivia’s expression twisted. She was just about to protest, but Elizabeth held her back.
Elizabeth’s smile was as gentle as ever. “Olivia, since Charlotte wants this room, we’ll let her have it.”
Let her? Charlotte’s lips curled with a sneer. She nudged the trophy and her bag out of the way with her foot, tilting her pretty face upward. Her gaze was lazy, almost playful, as she looked at Olivia and her mother. “Since when do my things need someone else’s permission?”
The room fell silent. No one could believe it. Charlotte, who used to be so soft and timid, suddenly seemed like a completely different person. Did she grow a backbone in the countryside?
People always said rust never turns to gold. Maybe they were right.
Olivia and her mother were left speechless, their faces pale and flushed at the same time.
Everyone knew Olivia was talented, refined, the darling of Cabinda’s elite. She played piano, painted, and carried herself with perfect grace. People loved her, envied her.
Charlotte, though… She was just the scandal. She’d had a breakdown, tried to seduce a man, then nearly stabbed him when things went wrong. Her name was mud.
Compared to Olivia, she didn’t even deserve to shine her shoes.
It was only a room. Did Olivia really care?
Elizabeth swallowed her anger, her soft smile never faltering. “Do as Charlotte says.”


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