"I’ll count to three. Think carefully about whether you want to apologize."
Her lazy deanor didn’t seem imposing at first, but a closer look at her eyes revealed their pitch-black depth, as if bottomless, stirring an inexplicable fear.
Stanley Zachmann knew Nathalie Quinlan was standing up for him. His eyes reddened, and as a grown man, he almost couldn’t hold back his emotions.
His daughter was too thoughtful. He had never done much for her, yet every single ti Nathalie stepped forward to protect him, her father.
Stanley turned his head away, clenched his fists, forcibly holding back the tears in his eyes, then walked over and pulled at the girl’s arm.
"Nathalie, let it go."
Nathalie didn’t turn her head. She simply said, "I’m just a younger generation. If no one respects , that’s fine—after all, I have little connection with this family. But you’re not part of the younger generation here. If they insist you apologize, then they should follow through on their own words once the truth is clear. If an apology is due, then an apology must be made!"
She had already paid back the money.
It was equivalent to returning all the goodwill they had shown her in McKinney.
Just like Caryn Zachmann and the others said—if you want clarity, then everything should be crystal clear.
Caryn Zachmann was montarily stunned, but soon recovered, furrowing her brows. She emphasized her tone: "Nathalie, my mom is your second aunt!"
"I know that." The girl raised her delicate, striking features with a hint of mischief. Her dark, dazzling eyes fixed on Caryn, seemingly lighthearted yet inadvertently sharp: "She’s my elder. But in this world, age doesn’t dictate who’s right or wrong. There’s no fairness in demanding others return sothing with an obsessive ticulousness, while pushing back and playing the family card when asked to follow the sa principle yourself."
"If people want fairness, then let’s have fairness all the way!"
The atmosphere froze.
Everyone was overwheld by the aura the girl unleashed, stifling to the point of breathlessness.
Especially Celine Tucker.
She could hardly believe Nathalie Quinlan dared to make such demands of her.
As waves of fury and shock surged within her, Celine pointed a trembling finger at Nathalie, her hand shaking repeatedly with rage, yet unable to get a single word out.
The girl’s deanor—those sa striking features—looked as indifferent as ever, as if unfazed by anything. But when she got serious, it felt as if no one could withstand her determination.
"Apologize."
The sa phrase again!
This ti, it was aid directly at Celine Tucker.
Celine locked eyes with the girl’s absurdly dark gaze for all but a second, as though seeing a beast hidden within her eyes ready to pounce. A shiver ran through her, and she diverted her gaze in retreat.
Nathalie’s gaze was terrifying.
However, to apologize to Stanley Zachmann, lowering herself in front of the family elders, her husband, her daughter, and a whole group of people?
Her innate sense of pride refused to let her yield.
If she apologized now, wouldn’t her face be trampled and humiliated for everyone to see? How could she go out in public afterward?
"One."
Nathalie had started counting.
It was clear that she wasn’t joking with Celine Tucker.
Caryn Zachmann, still suppressed by the aura Nathalie had emanated, hadn’t recovered. Like Celine Tucker, she was montarily stunned. When she finally realized she was being pressured by a country girl from McKinney, her face went green in anger. Her expression darkened as she grimly warned in a low voice, "Nathalie Quinlan, you’ve gone too far! Do you think this family is a place where you can act recklessly?"
Nathalie chuckled softly, entirely unfazed.
Whether or not the Zachmann Family was a place she could stir up trouble, she was already here. Did Caryn really need to make such a foolish remark just to remind her again?
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