Solenne absolutely loathed Wisteria, and as luck would have it, she’d just witnessed a scene that would fuel her mockery for years to come. Wisteria had been blocking Yancey’s car, begging him for a chance to explain herself. Yancey, however, showed no mercy., He simply started the engine and drove off without a backward glance.
It was the kind of social disaster Solenne and her friends would gossip about endlessly. Everyone in their circle already knew Wisteria was trouble, shameless and manipulative.
Whenever Yancey was around, Solenne always found some excuse to needle Wisteria.
“Are you a dog? All you do is yap all day,” Wisteria sneered. She was in no mood to take it lying down. Her day had already been bad enough, and at Solenne’s provocation, she snapped.
“You—” Solenne was so stunned she was momentarily speechless, and before she could fire back, Wisteria had already turned on her heel and walked away.
Just then, a server passed by with a tray of fruit punch. Solenne, fuming, grabbed a glass and stormed after Wisteria. Without warning, she doused Wisteria from head to toe.
Wisteria froze in the middle of the path. A sticky red liquid ran down her hair and over her face, staining her white silk dress. Most of the guests had already arrived and turned to stare at the spectacle.
Her dress was ruined. The humiliation was complete.
“Oh dear, I’m so clumsy… I’m sorry, sister. Maybe you should go change? Or better yet, just head home? I’d hate for people to laugh at the Huxleys’ wild second daughter again,” Solenne said, feigning concern as she smirked at Wisteria’s misery.
A nearby maid rushed over with a towel, but Wisteria shoved her aside. Then, without hesitation, she slapped Solenne hard across the face.
The crack echoed through the crowd, drawing everyone’s attention.
Mr. and Mrs. Huxley heard the commotion and hurried over.
Harlan Huxley immediately saw Wisteria, disheveled and dripping, while Solenne clung to her face, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Dad! I just accidentally spilled my drink, and then Wisteria hit me!”
Solenne threw herself into her father’s arms, and her mother, Faye, quickly joined, wrapping her up protectively. She shot Wisteria a look. She could guess it was just another spat between the girls, but her heart still ached for her own daughter.
Wisteria, on the other hand, had always been difficult—aloof, stubborn, impossible to discipline. If it weren’t for the close bond between Wisteria’s late parents and the Huxley family and the family trust fund entrusted to Wisteria, the Huxleys never would have chosen to raise such a headstrong, unruly heiress.
“Wisteria! It’s bad enough when you embarrass yourself at home, but must you behave like this in public?” Harlan’s face was flushed with anger and shame as he hissed, “Apologize to Solenne right now, and then go home. Reflect on your behavior!”
Ramona wasn’t alone; Ethan and the Jordon family elders had arrived with her. They’d just entered when they noticed the commotion and rushed over, only to find Wisteria and Solenne at the center of it.
At a charity gala not long ago, Wisteria had come to Ramona’s aid. Ramona could tell that beneath Wisteria’s icy exterior was someone decent, just stubborn and rough around the edges. Solenne, on the other hand, was a spoiled brat who delighted in picking on others.
“Ms. Jarrett…” Harlan began, immediately trying to compose himself. “I’m sorry to make a scene, but this girl is impossible to discipline. I just lost my head.”
“I understand. Every family has its troubles,” Ramona said with a gentle smile. “Wisteria’s certainly got a strong personality, and sure, she can be a little impulsive. But look at her, she’s just been soaked in punch and still gets scolded. Who wouldn’t be upset?”
She glanced at Solenne, whose cheek was still bright red.
Solenne, nestled against her mother and playing the victim, bristled at Ramona’s words.
“Ramona, this isn’t your business!” Solenne snapped. “So what if I threw punch at her? Wisteria hit me first. She’s the one who went too far!”
At that moment, Wisteria caught Yancey’s gaze. Without hesitation, she pulled free from Ramona’s grip. “This has nothing to do with you. I don’t need you to speak for me.”

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