Chapter 25: Shatter

I extricated myself from his grasp and bestowed upon him a saccharine smile that graced my lips. A smile filled with sarcasm and insincerity. Where does he find the audacity to approach me? Of course, it's all for a show. Isn't that their expertise? The art of concealing their true selves to charm the elites. To win over friends only to stab them in the back eventually. I couldn't help but wonder, why do such toxic individuals exist? They might as well all gather in hell.

Their actions are driven by the pursuit of fame, wealth, and adulation. He craves to be the talk of the town, the pride of his family. They all desire the spotlight, the fame, the power, and the praises of the crowd! They'd go to any lengths, even if they know their actions could hurt or trample others in their wake. They are all selfish. The Quintos are nothing more than a self-centered clan!

If he wants a show, well, I'll give him one.

I picked up a cup and filled it with chocolate from the grand chocolate fountain. I could predict Kyle's next move. He would feign helpfulness and support since the media were focusing on us, and many cameras were trained on us.

I intentionally let the cup filled with chocolate slip from my hands just as he positioned himself next to me. I promptly stepped back as I released my hold on the cup. In just a heartbeat, his warm and disingenuous smile disappeared.

"Oh my!" I feigned a scream, drawing everyone's attention towards us. I wanted to laugh at his flabbergasted expression.

The chocolate I had gathered had splattered all over his yellow polo and even stained his brown slacks before the cup finally hit the red carpet.

His choice of attire also left much to be desired. A yellow polo with brown slacks? His lack of fashion sense was apparent, revealing his true, cheap nature.

Fortunately, only a small splatter of chocolate landed on my foot, unlike Kyle's disaster. I quickly wiped it off, the stain was no bigger than an ant.

He deserved it! He truly deserved it!

Several waitresses approached, their eyes wide with panic, which I could not comprehend. They didn't take any action to clean the mess on the floor. If I could, I would have ordered them to stand back and let Kyle clean up his own mess, but I refrained. I didn't want the event organizers to blame the waitstaff.

"What?" I retorted when I caught Kyle's piercing gaze trained on me.

"It's your fault, you were in the way, and that's why I spilled all the chocolate I was holding," I countered, hoping to enrage him further.

His eyes were ablaze with anger as he stared at me. If we weren't surrounded by the media, he would have probably physically hurt me already. I wouldn't forget what he did to me in the restroom.

I didn't approach him; instead, I watched him struggle to wipe off the chocolate that stubbornly clung to his clothes. Of course! If he was clueless enough to rub it, it would only spread further and not come off without a thorough wash. What he should have done was change his clothes and not return because his audacity and his behavior were getting on my nerves.

I took a moment to survey my surroundings, my eyes darting from one person to another. All eyes were still fixated on us, the center of attention. The atmosphere hung heavy with a mix of concern and curiosity. The Quinto family, particularly, appeared visibly bothered by the incident that had just unfolded. Their faces wore expressions of distress and apprehension. And as I glanced around, I couldn't help but notice the subtle warnings concealed within the glances directed my way. It was as if their eyes were cautioning me, urging me to tread lightly in the aftermath of what had transpired.

I discreetly shifted my gaze, allowing my eyes to roam discreetly, taking in every detail of the scene. It was a delicate dance, observing without being noticed. I observed the concerned whispers exchanged among the guests, their hushed conversations laden with speculation and intrigue. They were undoubtedly discussing the events that had just unfolded, dissecting every detail with fervor. I knew that rumors would spread like wildfire, fueled by the exaggerated accounts and half-truths that naturally accompany such incidents.

In the midst of this tense atmosphere, Kyle's parents made their way towards us. Concern etched deep lines on their foreheads as they approached, their strides filled with urgency.

"What happened?" Kyle's mother inquired with a mixture of worry and confusion, her voice laced with maternal concern.

I took a deep breath, composing myself before responding. It was crucial to choose my words carefully, to maintain the delicate balance between honesty and diplomacy.

"It was an unfortunate accident, Auntie," I began, my voice calm and composed. "Kyle happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the chocolate ended up spilling on him. Such a shame, especially considering how delicious that chocolate was," I added, a hint of regret in my voice as I subtly emphasized the lost opportunity to savor the treat.

As I spoke, I couldn't help but sneak a glance at Kyle. His eyes locked with mine, his brows furrowed in a mixture of surprise and anger. There was an undeniable intensity in his gaze, an anger that seemed disproportionate to the situation at hand. But I remained unfazed, unyielding under the weight of his piercing stare. Growing up with my mother's stern gaze, I had developed a resilience, rendering his attempts to intimidate me futile.

His voice, low and charged with frustration, cut through the air. "Are you more upset about the wasted chocolate or the fact that my beloved polo, which holds sentimental value, was ruined?" he questioned, his words dripping with a simmering anger.

A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Kyle placed so much value on that polo? I couldn't help but find irony in his words. After all, the moment he wore it, it lost its luster, appearing cheap and inconsequential. He, himself, was nothing more than a facade of wealth and status, lacking the substance to match.

"Well, Kyle, chocolates are a delectable indulgence, far from useless," I retorted, my smile widening as I purposely emphasized the word "useless."

"As for your polo, I suppose sentimentality can cloud one's judgment. But to me, it's merely an object, replaceable and trivial," I added, my tone laced with a hint of amusement, deliberately goading him further.

You're already this furious over such a trivial matter? Just because I spilled some chocolate on you in front of a crowd, you react this way?

And what if your father's numerous guests were to witness our antics? You'd probably be even more enraged, right? Because then all your foolishness would be exposed for everyone to see.

As soon as Kyle's parents sensed the tension, they promptly intervened and instructed the waitress, who had been standing by without moving, to clean up the mess.

Kyle stormed out in a huff right in front of me. I couldn't help but smirk inwardly at his reaction. I could hear the whispers beginning to circulate around us, though I couldn't quite make out what was being said. Still, I knew we were the topic of the gossip. People are so quick to spread rumors, even if they're completely unfounded, if they don't take the time to think things through.

"What was that all about, dear?" Kyle's father asked, his brow furrowed in annoyance as he stared at me.

I simply shrugged my shoulders innocently.

"As I explained, Uncle and Aunt, it was purely accidental. Kyle just happened to be in the way, that's why he got splashed," I further clarified.

He let out a heavy sigh, the irritation still visible in his eyes. Meanwhile, his wife kept her gaze fixed on me, a discerning look in her eyes. I maintained my innocent facade, not letting on that I was somewhat pleased by the embarrassment their son had just experienced. The media even managed to capture the whole incident, so it was sure to be the talk of the town.

You know how it is with people. Once you give them a scandal issue, it will spread like wildfire until a new one comes along to replace it.

I couldn't help but shake my head. This is just the beginning. We're not even at the halfway point yet, and things haven't even heated up. I'm not ruining the party, they should keep their cool. After all, it's just me, the one who will shatter their illusions, their dreams and their ambitions.