A shock

The initial shock quickly gave way to anger, her body tensing as memories she had tried to bury surfaced with painful clarity. Without another word, she turned away, determined not to engage him.

But Daniel wasn't about to let her go. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

"How dare you lay your filthy hands on me?" she snapped, her voice laced with fury as she turned to face him.

"Please, Elena. Just hear me out. Let's talk," Daniel pleaded, his voice soft yet laced with desperation, his eyes searching hers for a glimmer of understanding.

Her expression hardened immediately, her lips curling into a scowl and her eyes narrowing with pure disdain. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say. Leave me the hell alone!" she snapped, her tone sharp and final.

As she yanked her hand in an attempt to free herself from his grip, her abrupt movement collided with a waiter passing by, carrying a tray laden with glasses of wine. The sudden impact sent the tray tipping forward, and in an instant, the glasses slipped, crashing to the ground in a loud, chaotic clatter. Crimson liquid splattered across the polished floor, and fragments of glass scattered in every direction.

The sharp sound of shattering glass halted nearby conversations as guests turned their attention to the scene. Some stared openly, while others exchanged hushed whispers, their curious gazes flickering between Elena and Daniel. To make matters worse, some of the spilled wine had splashed onto Elena's dress, leaving prominent red stains streaked across the delicate fabric.

A wave of humiliation burned hot in her chest, but she clenched her jaw, refusing to let her emotions betray her. Snatching her hand out of Daniel's grip, she fixed him with a glare filled with anger and detaste.

"You've caused enough damage. Stay the hell away from me!" she hissed, her voice trembling with suppressed fury.

The room felt stifling. The late hour and the collective stares of the guests amplified her mortification. The last thing she wanted was to become the center of attention for all the wrong reasons. Rubbing her temple in frustration, she felt the weight of their judgment pressing down on her, suffocating and unbearable.

Unable to endure the humiliation any longer, she bolted from the scene, her hands shielding her face as though that could hide her shame. Her footsteps echoed across the marble floor as she disappeared into the night, leaving behind Daniel, the broken glasses, and the whispers of a crowd too eager to gossip about her fall from grace.

From the far end of the hall, Ford's attention was drawn to a commotion nearby. Curious, he tried to pinpoint the source of the noise, but his thoughts were interrupted by a soft, feminine voice.

"Good evening, Ford," the voice greeted subtly.

He turned to see a woman standing a few steps away, her lips curled into a confident smile. "And who are you?" Ford asked, sipping his drink casually, his tone indifferent.

"Your wife-to-be," the woman replied boldly, her words dripping with confidence. This immediately caught Ford's full attention.

He studied her for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly as he tried to place her face. What would give her such audacity? Then, after a brief pause, it clicked. She must be one of the daughters from the prominent family he was being introduced to tonight.

"Hmmm. Interesting. You're so confident," Ford remarked, his eyes scanning her from head to toe, his expression unreadable.

Moving closer to him, her smile never wavering, the woman replied, "Oh yes, baby, I am. Why shouldn't I be?" she said, her tone playful yet firm, her gaze locking onto his as she stared directly into his eyes.

Ford smirked, amused by her boldness. "Let's see how it goes," he said, his voice laced with intrigue.

"Oh, son! It looks like you two have already met. Isn't she a beauty?" Mr. Lugard's voice interrupted their conversation as he approached with Jane's parents in tow. Clearly, their parents had been discussing the potential union and had now spotted their children deep in conversation.

Ford turned toward the group, flashing a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you all. I don't…" He began to speak, but his sentence was abruptly cut short as someone collided into him.

Elena, her head hung low, immediately stammered, "I'm sorry! Forgive me, sir. It was a mistake." Her voice trembled, and she avoided meeting his gaze.

Noticing the tension, she hesitated before glancing up—and that's when her heart sank. Her stepmother and father were standing right behind Mr. Lugard and Jane's parents, glaring at her with thinly veiled disapproval.

Ford glanced between Elena and the others, sensing the undercurrent of unspoken tension between them.

Jane couldn't help but roll her eyes at Elena's clumsy intrusion. "Emm, sir, that's my daughter too. Please pardon her mistake. She's as silly as ever," Mr. Johnson said apologetically, attempting to brush off the situation. His tone was dismissive as he averted his gaze from Elena, the young woman who had accidentally bumped into Ford.

Ford's eyes widened in surprise, his drink momentarily forgotten. "Elena?" he asked, disbelief etched on his face. Elena froze, her mouth opening slightly in shock. "What are you doing here? You're his daughter?" Ford added, the realization hitting him.

Jane's expression shifted immediately, her earlier confidence fading into thinly veiled irritation. Her eyes darted toward her mother, silently seeking an explanation. However, her mother only responded with a confused look, clearly unsure of what was unfolding.

Elena, sensing the weight of their stares, averted her eyes, hoping to escape unnoticed.

"Emm, yes, she's my stepsister," Jane interjected quickly, her voice overly sweet as she tried to dismiss the moment. "She's not important now. Don't mind her rude interruption," Jane added with a forced smile as she stepped in front of Elena, blocking her from view.

"Excuse me, sorry," Elena murmured hastily, her voice barely audible as she turned to leave. Her heart pounded in her chest as she desperately tried to flee the scene.

But before she could take another step, Ford moved swiftly, sidestepping Jane and grabbing Elena's arm gently but firmly to stop her.

"Son, do you know one of Mr. Johnson's daughters?" Ford's father asked, his curiosity piqued as he watched the interaction.

"Oh yes, Dad, I know her very well," Ford replied, a smile spreading across his face. His tone held an unexpected excitement that caught everyone off guard.

To him, it felt like fate had worked in his favor. Who would have thought that the woman whom he married for a show., would turn out to be the daughter of Mr. Johnson?

Ford's gaze shifted to Elena, who was trembling slightly, her face pale with worry. She bit her lip, trying to conceal her emotions, but her unease was all too evident. Her wide eyes darted between Ford and the others, silently pleading for an escape from the suffocating situation.

To Ford, however, she was the perfect wife and especially her being the daughter of Mr Johnson made more perfect. And now, there was no way he was letting her go.

Ford could feel Elena's hands trembling in his grasp. Concern flashed across his face. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, leaning closer to her.

"Please, let go of me," Elena whispered, her voice shaky but determined. With every ounce of strength she could muster, she yanked her hands free from his grip and darted toward the nearest door, her hurried footsteps echoing in the hall as she disappeared from sight.

From the side, Daniel stood watching the entire scene unfold. A deep frown settled on his face as he tried to process what had just happened. How did his boss know Elena? And why did she seem so distressed?

Ford turned back to the group, forcing a smile as he addressed them. "Looks like she's surprised to see me," he said with a casual shrug. "I'll make a proper introduction next time."

Mr. Lugard chuckled heartily, his voice breaking the tense atmosphere. "Well, Mr. Johnson, it seems my son has already acclimatized with one of your daughters!" he said with obvious delight, clapping Mr. Johnson on the back.

Jane, standing nearby, shot her father an angry glare. This wasn't going according to her plan, and she was growing more agitated by the second. Her mother, noticing her frustration, placed a calming hand on her arm, silently urging her to stay composed.

"Mr. Ford," Mr. Johnson said, stepping forward and gesturing toward Jane, "you don't need to concern yourself with Elena. This is my other daughter, Jane—more beautiful and far more suitable for you." He placed a hand on Jane's shoulder, pulling her closer for a formal introduction.

Ford's father, Mr. Lugard, stiffened at the comment, his cheerful demeanor darkening. His brows furrowed as he fixed Mr. Johnson with a sharp look. "What do you mean, Mr. Johnson? Are you implying that your other daughter is not suitable? Why, then, would you propose her as a match for my other son?" His tone was no longer light, and his words carried a distinct edge.

Mr. Johnson opened his mouth to respond, but Mr. Lugard continued, his voice rising. "You were the one who told me you had a daughter for my eldest son. Then, after canceling that arrangement, you came back and suggested that both your daughters could marry both my sons. So tell me—what do you mean by saying one is suitable and the other is not? What game are you playing, Mr. Johnson?"