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Chapter 3 - The Heir’s Ultimatum

From the opposite side of the ballroom, Ethan Whitmore pushed his way through the gathering crowd, his jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle ticked sharply in his cheek. His hazel eyes—usually warm and approachable during those late nights sharing tea in the quiet kitchen—were now hardened into a terrifying, glacial glare.

Ethan had seen everything. He had seen Vanessa’s malicious ambush, her cruel sneer, and the sudden, breathtaking display of raw, defensive power that had brought Boston’s most arrogant socialite crashing to the floor.

"Vanessa," Ethan’s voice boomed across the silent room, rich with authority and cold fury.

Vanessa scrambled up from the floor, her hair coming undone, mascara slightly smudged from humiliation. She rushed toward Ethan, expecting him to rush to her defense, to order security to drag Naomi away in chains.

"Ethan! Did you see what this animal did to me?" Vanessa sobbed, clutching at the sleeve of his tailored tuxedo jacket. "She assaulted me in front of everyone! Fire her! Have her arrested right this second!"

Ethan didn't flinch. He slowly pulled his arm away from her grasp as if her touch burned him. He stepped past her, walking directly toward Naomi, who stood quietly with her hands folded neatly in front of her apron.

"Are you alright, Naomi?" Ethan asked, his voice softening dramatically as he looked down at her.

Naomi nodded slowly, her expression remaining entirely composed. "I'm fine, Mr. Whitmore. Thank you."

The ballroom erupted into a fresh wave of gasps and murmurs. Mr. Whitmore? The heir to the multi-billion-dollar Whitmore estate was showing open concern, even reverence, toward a maid who had just humiliated his fiancée?

Vanessa’s face twisted in sheer disbelief and rage. "What are you doing?! She’s just a servant! Look at me! I am your bride!"

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Ethan turned around slowly, his gaze locking onto Vanessa with a terrifying finality. The air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

"You were my bride, Vanessa," Ethan corrected coldly. He reached up, unpinned the boutonnière from his lapel, and let it drop to the marble floor. "The engagement is over. Security, escort Miss Sterling off the property immediately. And make sure she takes every single one of her belongings with her."

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