“Dean Carter, do you have any explanation for this video? Is Miss Brooks the Masked Queen—or just one of them?”
Reporters clamored, their questions filling the air.
The audience was stunned into silence, while the hosts scrambled to cut the hacked video feed.
Richard’s bodyguards swarmed around me, waiting until he had safely escorted Natalie away before they brought me to the tearoom.
“Claire Dawson, I warned you. I have plenty of ways to make you suffer…”
Meeting his furious eyes, I flung scalding tea at him.
With a hiss, the hot liquid stained his pale blue shirt.
He dabbed his face with a handkerchief.
“If it helps you vent, pour the whole pot. As long as you make it clear this has nothing to do with Natalie, you can take it out on me however you like.”
For a fleeting second, I glimpsed the sincerity he once showed me. My heart clenched, as though pierced by a needle.
“What is there to explain? Isn’t it the truth?”
“Claire, Natalie’s only in her twenties. She doesn’t deserve to be dragged down by scandal—she has a bright future ahead of her.”
His earnest defense made me laugh coldly.