Chapter 133

Violet

"You wouldn't dare!" The words pushed Sienna over the edge, and whatever composure she'd had shattered in an instant.

She let out a shriek, her features twisting with rage and panic. Like a woman gone mad, she lunged at me, her scarlet-manicured hands flying toward the phone I held, desperate to snatch it away and destroy it.

"Give me that phone! You lowborn little peasant!"

I'd been ready for her. I twisted aside, dodging her grab. But she wouldn't let up—her hands clawed wildly through the air until they seized the collar of my coat.

Something cold and vicious flickered in my eyes. Without a moment's hesitation, I reached up, caught a fistful of her meticulously styled blonde curls, and yanked hard.

"Aaah—!" A blood-curdling scream tore from Sienna's throat as she was forced to bend at the waist. Still, her hands clung to my clothes, refusing to release.

"Let go of my daughter!" Mrs. Bellini screamed, springing up from the sofa and rushing over to help.

Lily reacted in a flash. She darted forward and threw her body between us, blocking Mrs. Bellini. "Don't touch her! You people started this!"

The headmaster hopped about frantically at the side, shouting, "Security! Somebody call security!"

In seconds the office dissolved into chaos, screams and curses tangling together in the air.

My face was ice. I didn't loosen my grip in the slightest, holding fast to Sienna's hair, refusing to give an inch. Tears streamed down her face from the pain, yet she thrashed on like a rabid dog.

Just as the standoff reached its breaking point—just as the whole scene was about to spiral completely out of control—the heavy oak door of the office was shoved open from outside.

"What is going on here!"

A low, commanding roar exploded from the doorway.

Mr. Sheldon, who had stepped out earlier to take a phone call, strode back into the office. His face was livid. His sharp gaze swept across the room in disarray, then locked on the sight of Sienna and me, still frozen in our struggle.

"What is going on here!"

Owen's voice carried, cutting through the spacious office with undisguised fury.

I let go.

Deprived of support, Sienna reacted quickly nonetheless, riding the momentum of my release to drop hard onto the Persian carpet.

"Mom! My head hurts so much!" She clutched at her scalp, tears bursting forth at once. Then she pointed at me, the guilty party crying foul first. "Mr. Sheldon, look at Violet—she's insane! She didn't just hit me, she tried to kill me!"

At this, the headmaster came scurrying out from behind the broad mahogany desk. He pulled out a handkerchief, dabbed the cold sweat from his forehead, and approached with the utmost deference. "Mr. Sheldon, what brings you here? It's only a little dispute between students—I was just about to handle it..."

Even Mrs. Bellini, who moments ago had been bristling like a hen defending her chick, quickly smoothed away her anger. She adjusted the hem of her Chanel suit, drew herself up into the poise of a high-society matron, and spoke with a courtesy that bordered on ingratiating. "Mr. Sheldon, it's been too long. Sienna's suffered a little grievance here—do forgive the spectacle."

I stood where I was, watching all this, and a wave of genuine bewilderment rose in me.

That the headmaster feared Mrs. Bellini was only natural. But Mrs. Bellini—the wife of a core member of the board of trustees, true New York old money—why would she treat a mere music instructor with such courtesy?

Owen paid no attention to the headmaster's fawning, nor did he give Mrs. Bellini any response. He didn't so much as spare a glance for Sienna, weeping on the floor.

He walked straight toward me.

Owen stopped in front of me. His eyes moved over the loosened collar of my coat, then to Lily standing beside me, the back of her hand scratched raw.

"Are you hurt?" Owen asked, his voice low.

"I'm fine, Mr. Sheldon." I shook my head and reached up to straighten my collar.

I lifted my face and met his eyes.

It was the first time I'd ever seen Owen like this. In the rehearsal hall he was strict and exacting, but his gaze had always been pure—the focus of an artist. Now, though, a thick sheet of ice had frozen over those gray-blue eyes, radiating a pressure that made it impossible to hold his stare. It was the coldness of a man long accustomed to giving orders, to standing far above others.

Satisfied that I was unharmed, Owen turned and swept a frigid look toward the headmaster.

"Pull the security footage from the dining hall." It was not a suggestion but a flat command. "And bring me every student who was present, along with the dining hall manager who dealt with it. I want witnesses."

The headmaster hesitated, glancing instinctively at Mrs. Bellini, his face pained. "Mr. Sheldon, this... it's only a small scuffle between girls. Isn't pulling the footage making rather too much of it?"

"I'll say it once." Owen fixed his eyes on the headmaster, his voice utterly level. "Do it."

The headmaster flinched from head to toe. Not daring another word, he snatched up the internal phone on the desk and rattled off orders to the security department to retrieve the footage and summon the witnesses.

At the word "footage," Sienna, still on the floor, panicked instantly. Her crying stopped short, and the color drained from her face.

She knew all too well what the cameras had caught. She had been the one to walk over and provoke. She had been the one to throw the water first. She had been the one to hurl the first insult. The moment that footage played in front of everyone, all the lies she'd just spun to shift the blame would be exposed for good.

Sienna scrambled up from the floor and clutched at Mrs. Bellini's sleeve. "Mom..." Her voice trembled, her eyes darting.

Mrs. Bellini sensed her daughter's guilt as well, and her expression soured.

Sienna gritted her teeth and turned to look at me. She forced the old air of superiority back onto her face, though her tone had gone noticeably hollow. "Violet, we're classmates, after all. I don't want this to get any uglier either. Just apologize to me right now, and promise to withdraw from next week's charity gala, and I'll let today's matter drop."

I looked at her stubborn refusal to back down even now, and found it utterly absurd. I was just about to open my mouth to retort when Owen spoke first.

"Let it drop?" Owen let out a cold laugh, his gaze scraping across Sienna's face like a blade. "You're afraid that when that footage arrives, everyone will see you start the whole thing like some ill-bred shrew, aren't you? Putting on this generous act now—it's too late for that."

His words were razor-sharp, stripping away Sienna's last shred of cover without mercy. Exposed in front of everyone, her cheeks flushed crimson; she was so mortified she could have crawled into a crack in the floor. Her mouth opened, but not a single word of rebuttal came out.

"Mr. Sheldon." Mrs. Bellini could hold back no longer. She stepped forward, shielding Sienna behind her, trying to salvage some dignity. "Sienna is young, and her temper got the better of her, that's all. But it's a fact that Violet raised her hands as well. Isn't it a little unfair of you to take your student's side so completely?"