Chapter 337: The Fallout
Morgan clutched her stinging, swollen face, her voice trembling with rage. “What the hell are you all standing around for?! Grab her! I don’t care if the King of Heaven himself shows up—I’m tearing this bitch apart!”
The crowd stood frozen in shock. No one had ever dared lay a hand on Morgan—the jewel of the Harper family, the undisputed queen of Havenbrook’s socialite scene. And yet, here she was, publicly humiliated, in her own grandfather’s banquet hall. At Summer’s hands.
The socialites hesitated, glancing at each other. They wanted to obey Morgan, but… she is Mr. Graham’s fiancée. That name alone was enough to make their blood run cold.
Morgan’s eyes burned with hatred. “Liliah! Sasha! Move!”
Finally, the two girls stepped forward, reaching to seize Summer’s arms—only for Merry to plant herself in front of Summer, blocking them. The next moment, a voice cut through the tension.
“What is going on?!” A thunderous voice cut through the tension. Martin, leaning heavily on his cane, strode into the chaos, his face dark with displeasure.
Morgan immediately burst into tears, running to him. “Grandpa! That woman! She hit me!”
Martin’s heart ached at the sight of his granddaughter’s reddened cheek. Morgan was his late eldest son’s only child. After losing his son to illness years ago, he had doted on her excessively. Now, his grip tightened on his cane. “Who did this?”
The crowd parted, their smirks hidden behind gloved hands as they gestured toward Summer.
Chapter 117: The Fallout
Summer stood calmly amidst their venomous stares. “I did.”
Martin’s brows furrowed. “You? Why?”
Summer’s voice was steady. “Mr. Martin, Morgan publicly called me a gold-digger and insulted the Graham heir—the unborn child of the Graham family. I assumed such words couldn’t have been taught by her elders, so I took the liberty of disciplining her myself. For the sake of the Harper family’s reputation, of course.”
Martin’s expression stiffened. If he defended Morgan now, it would imply the Harpers condoned insults toward the Grahams. He forced a stern tone. “Morgan! How could you speak so rudely to Mrs. Graham?”
Morgan gaped. “Grandpa! You’re taking her side?!”
Martin patted her hand, his voice placating. “Enough. This was just a misunderstanding. Morgan’s jokes went too far, and Summer’s reaction was too harsh. Let’s leave it at that.”
A masterful spin—implying Morgan’s slurs were mere “jokes” while painting Summer as the aggressor. The perfect setup for rumors, “The violent, unstable Mrs. Graham.”
Just then, a woman in an emerald gown rushed forward. She is Emilia, Morgan’s mother. Her face twisted in anguish as she cupped Morgan’s swollen cheek.
“Dad, Morgan is still young and doesn’t know what to say, or what constitutes a joke; a few words of instruction would suffice. I grew up never wanting to be mean to her, but look at Morgan’s face, swollen from what kind of blow, the pain in my heart!”
Emilia turned around and glared angrily at Summer, then quickly changed to a gentle face again. Her voice dripped with false sweetness. “Summer, even if you aren’t officially married into the Graham family yet, you still represent them. Attacking a hostess at her own event? Is this how street trash behaves? And frankly… was Morgan even wrong?”
The words were a knife, expertly wielded to strip Summer of her dignity. A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.
Then… 7.35 AM &…
Chapter 337: The Fallout
“Yeah! Apologize to Morgan!”
“You can’t just hit people!”
Merry’s chest exploded with anger as she looked at the faces of these so-called upper-class people.