Chapter 322 Clashing Loyalties
Chapter 322 Clashing Loyalties
Leander froze, evidently stunned that Quinn had slipped from his grasp with such effortless grace.
“Security! Where are the guards in this place?” Serena shouted, fury flaring hotter now that her own strength had failed.
Uniformed personnel hurried over, their faces shifting when they recognized Serena. Though the Fane family traced its roots to Celosia, Serena had become a darling of Doria’s social pages; her reputation preceded her.
“She injured my hand–drag her out,” Serena said. Then, as if remembering something, she walked up to Quinn. “Apologize first, and perhaps I’ll be merciful.”
“Shouldn’t you be apologizing to me?” Quinn shot back, voice icy.
“Apologize to you? You’re not worth it,” Serena sneered.
“Every life is born equal–status doesn’t change that,” Quinn replied, the words falling like frost.
Serena laughed, short and cruel. “Equality is the lullaby nobodies sing to fool themselves. Right now, I demand an apology, and you will give it.” With a tilt of her chin she signaled the guards to advance.
The foremost guard stepped up. “Please apologize to Ms. Fane, or we will be forced to act.”
Serena might have belonged to a collateral branch of the sprawling Fane dynasty, yet the shadow standing behind her–Leander, the family’s sole heir–made every whispered insult crawl back into the speaker’s throat. Quinn’s brows knitted, but she forced the tension down. I still have too many questions for Leander. Starting a scene won’t get me answers.
“I am Julius Whitethorn’s date,” Quinn announced, her voice as calm and sharp as glass sliding across stone, each syllable refusing to tremble.
In Doria, even a whisper of Julius‘ name could still a ballroom; the very mention of him carried all the menace of a drawn blade.
Serena laughed, a bright brittle sound. “Are you kidding me? Julius Whitethorn–the head of the Whitethorn family? Everyone knows he never brings a woman to his galas. If you’re going to lie, at least research first.”
Around her, the other silk–clad heirs and heiresses echoed the derision, laughter rippling like broken porcelain across the marble floor.
Serena’s smile vanished. “Forget apologies. I’ve decided–I’m taking her hand.” Malice glimmered in her eyes, cold and deliberate.
Something about Quinn–the way she had looked at Leander, as though greeting a long–lost companion- scraped like sandpaper against Serena’s nerves.
A new voice cut through the tension. “If you want to break my girlfriend’s hand, then I’ll break yours first. Julius‘ words fell like iron weights.
The entire gathering gasped.
111
1/2
Chapter 322 Clashing Loyalties
Quinn spun toward the voice and saw Julius striding across the parquet with Harlan Ingram on his heels both men moving with the purpose of incoming storm clouds.
Harlan skidded to Quinn’s side. “Quinnie, what happened?”
“Nothing worth fussing over,” Quinn murmured.
Harlan’s brow furrowed as his gaze settled on the fresh bruise blooming across her cheek. “This is ‘nothing? Who hit you?”
Julius‘ tone dropped to ice. “Who did it?”
Moments ago, the onlookers had doubted Quinn’s claim, but Julius‘ rage burned all uncertainty away.
Their skepticism dissolved as his furious gaze swept the room like a searchlight.
Julius was famous for his cold detachment; to see him enraged for a woman left no doubt of her status.
Every eye pivoted to Serena, the handprint on Quinn’s face suddenly glowing like a signature.
Julius faced Serena. “You hit her?”
Serena lifted her chin. “Yes, I did. She grabbed my brother for no reason. One slap was a lesson.”
Julius‘ eyes narrowed. “Then you’ll repay it tenfold.” He lifted his hand toward her cheek, intention clear as daylight.
“Stop!” Leander’s voice rang out, but it was Quinn’s palm that caught Julius‘ wrist mid–swing.
Serena stumbled behind Leander as he stepped forward, his arm shielding her while astonishment rippled across the crowd at Quinn’s sudden intervention.
Julius looked down at the hand restraining him. “She struck you, Quinn. She deserves the same.”
Harlan nodded emphatically, surprisingly agreeing with Julius for once. “Exactly, Quinnie. That slap can’t be erased.”
And if Julius hesitated, Harlan was fully prepared to deliver justice himself.
Leander drew Serena behind him and faced the two men squarely. “If you truly wish to raise your hands against a member of the Fane family, I will fight back. We are not pushovers.”
Julius and Harlan froze, taken aback by Leander’s face–so uncannily reminiscent of Rowan’s–that for a breath they wondered whether they were staring at friend or foe.
After all, no one had yet proved the stranger’s identity.
