At that mont, the announcer’s face was already pale, and her voice trembled slightly as she responded, "I’m really, really sorry, ma’am, but the director can’t co here. It’s... it’s simply not possible." Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, and even though she tried to keep a composed face, the pressure in the room was crushing. Everyone’s eyes were on her judging, waiting, ready to pounce.
Again Abigail’s brows twitched with even more rage. Her heels made a sharp click against the polished floor as she stepped forward, her presence commanding the attention of even those who were trying not to stare. "Then since the so-called director won’t co down here to face ," she began, her tone low but laced with venom, "I’m not letting go of that damn dress for anything."
Her voice rose with every word. "You hear ? I’m not letting it go. I fought for that dress, I won it in a public bid, and now you expect to just smile and watch you snatch it out of my hands? Not happening. Not in this life."
The room had fallen into tense silence. The announcer couldn’t even swallow properly, her throat tightening at the sight of Abigail’s fury.
Victoria, standing with her arms crossed and already fuming, imdiately step even more . "Yes!" she snapped, clapping her hands together once as if to ignite a fire. "That’s exactly what we’re going to do. We’re taking that dress. No apologies, no excuses, and definitely no staged drama will stop us!"
She walked forward, her finger pointing directly at the announcer’s chest. "You think we don’t know what’s going on here? You really think we’re that stupid?"
Abigail turned to face the crowd too. "They’re trying to sabotage . Sabotage us. Don’t you all see it? They want to push her into the spotlight by taking what I earned and handing it to her on a silver plate."
Victoria added bitterly, "It’s always the sa. Play favorites with whoever has the prettier card, the flashier na, or so hidden connection. Just because she showed up with a diamond invitation doesn’t make her royalty. It makes her lucky. And luck doesn’t win you this dress we did."
They both stood now side by side, powerful, furious, and unmovable. The guests around them murmured. So looked away, others recorded the scene with interest. But no one dared to intervene.
"This," Abigail pointed sharply toward the announcer, "isn’t a mistake. It’s a plot. A cheap, shallow, underhanded plot to humiliate . And I won’t let it stand."
Imdiately Victoria folded her arms, sneering. "Let them try. But we’re not backing down until we get what belongs to us."
At that mont, the announcer cleared her throat nervously, trying her best to steady her shaking hands while gripping her hands tighter. "I’m truly very, very sorry," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "But I must repeat myself this particular dress was never ant to be auctioned in the first place. It was a system error. The directors never approved it to be sold. It was simply a mistake. Please understand, there are still fifteen other exquisite pieces available for bidding. You may choose any of them freely. We would be honored to hand them over to you."
She bowed deeply toward Abigail and Victoria with trembling dignity, trying to offer so form of peace, but the damage was already done. Her words, instead of calming the tension, only seed to pour fuel on an already raging fire.
Abigail’s face remained unreadable for a few seconds, but Victoria snapped almost instantly. With her heels clicking sharply against the floor, she stord toward the stage, pulling Abigail with her. The sound of gasps and murmurs from the other guests filled the grand hall like a wave of whispers growing into a storm.
Now standing right at the podium, both won glared down at the announcer as if she were a bug that had dared crawl out of the mud onto their expensive carpet. Victoria’s tone was laced with venom as she hissed, "Oh, so now you think you can just talk your way out of this, huh? Is it because you’re standing up there with a microphone that you suddenly feel untouchable? Do you think you can just humiliate us in front of everyone and get away with it?"
Abigail’s voice followed, slow and sharp like ice through flesh. "Who the hell do you think you are? What gave you the confidence to embarrass us like this? That dress was won fair and square. Are you trying to make it seem like we are fools? That you can change the rules just to please whoever is behind this sabotage?"
The announcer lifted her head slightly, trying to speak again, but her lips had barely parted before "slap!!"
A loud, resounding crack echoed across the room.
The entire hall fell into stunned silence as Abigail’s open palm connected harshly with the announcer’s face, causing her head to whip sideways. The cheek imdiately began to redden and swell.
The announcer staggered but quickly regained her footing, bowing again in reflex, trying to recover the situation. "I-I’m truly sor—"
"Slap!!"
Another heavy strike ca from Abigail before the poor woman could even finish her sentence. This one was harder, more deliberate. The crowd gasped again, so clutching their pearls, so pulling out their phones discreetly to record the chaos unfolding.
Victoria stood by, arms crossed and chin raised, proud of every second of what was happening.
Abigail took a step forward, clearly prepared to go further. Her eyes were lit with fury, and her breathing had quickened. The announcer was visibly shaking now, not daring to say another word.
But just then
A deep, commanding voice sliced through the tension like a blade.
"Enough!"
At that mont, all heads imdiately turned in the direction of the voice. The entire hall went silent. Gasps spread through the air like a soft wave. And there she was Cora. She wasn’t seated anymore. She wasn’t waiting for permission. She wasn’t trying to stay silent. She was already on her feet, heels echoing with every step she took as she walked towards the podium. Her dress flowed with quiet elegance, but the fire in her eyes made everyone shift uncomfortably in their seats.
She stood right in front of Abigail and Victoria now. Unshaken. Calm. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried weight, power, and calm fury.
"Why would you even try to molest an innocent worker like this?" she asked, her eyes locking on Abigail. "She made a mistake. A human mistake. And she admitted it. She apologized with her head bowed. What more do you want from her?"
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