Mrs. Winston's eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at Isabella Robinson.
"How dare you suggest such a vicious humiliation!"
Though desperate to save her son, the idea of slapping Sophia Sullivan in public was too degrading.
She forced a cold smile, attempting to assert her family's influence.
"I represent the Winston family. Are you deliberately provoking us, Miss Robinson?"
Isabella had been idly twirling a lock of hair.
She burst into laughter at the threat.
"Don't flatter yourself, Mrs. Winston. You don't speak for the entire Winston family."
The heiress remained unfazed.
"Even if I offended them, what could your family possibly do to me?"
Mrs. Winston turned pale with rage. "You—"
But she had no rebuttal.
As the sole heir to a real estate empire, Isabella vastly outranked the Winstons.
Turning to Sophia, Isabella winked playfully.
"Brilliant idea, isn't it, darling?"
For three years, Mrs. Winston had tormented Sophia.
Now was the perfect revenge.
"Clever scheme," Sophia remarked dryly. "Though I wonder if their devotion is just lip service."
Murmurs spread through the crowd.
"Five million per slap could clear those gambling debts fast."
"I'd take that deal—getting paid to settle scores?"
"After all their dramatic weeping, surely they won't refuse?"
Mrs. Winston's face darkened at the public scrutiny.
Sophia tilted her head. "Well?"
This was poetic justice.
They'd weaponized public opinion first.
Chloe Evans didn't refuse outright. Instead, she asked pointedly, "Can we trust your word, Sophia?"
Already scheming loopholes.
"Money for each slap, correct?"
Sophia rested her chin on her hand. "Naturally."
Without hesitation, Chloe grabbed Mrs. Winston's wrist and guided it toward her own face.
Slap.
The sound was crisp, but the impact featherlight.
Mrs. Winston instantly understood.
Acting? Her specialty after decades in high society.
"For Liam, any mother would endure this humiliation."
She turned with tear-filled eyes, the picture of noble suffering.
Sophia watched coldly.
"One slap and you're martyrs? Feel free to walk away."
Mrs. Winston stiffened.
"I've endured public disgrace! What more do you want?"
Sophia's retort was razor-sharp.
"I should ask you—getting millions per slap seems generous enough."
The crowd grew louder.
"Is she having second thoughts?"
"Five million per slap! That's beyond generous!"
"Take me instead if they won't continue!"
Their mocking stares burned.
Mrs. Winston squirmed.
Chloe's smile turned brittle, barely containing her fury.
She forced trembling lips. "Must you humiliate the Winstons completely?"
Mrs. Winston's rage exploded at the provocation.
"Sophia Sullivan! Know your place!"
Then she met Ethan Sullivan's icy gaze.
The imposing CEO stood silently beside Sophia, radiating danger.
One look froze Mrs. Winston's blood.
Her insults died unspoken.
Some primal instinct warned her—crossing him would be catastrophic.
When Sophia remained unmoved, Chloe bit her lip dramatically.
"If more slaps will satisfy you, we'll continue."
She'd fake the impacts anyway.
But Sophia laughed sharply.
"Harder slaps only. No more pretend strikes."
Chloe gasped. "How dare—!"
The crowd jeered.
"Get on with it!"
"Stop stalling!"
"Put some muscle into it!"
"Think of your precious son and husband—weren't you weeping earlier?"
Chloe clenched her fists.
Their plan had spectacularly backfired.