Isabella hit the ground and woke with a cry of pain.
Alexander was still reeling.
“Claire, how dare you! To defy me here, on Hughes ground?”
I gave a cold snort.
“Defy you? Alexander, don’t forget who you are.”
Of course he hadn’t forgotten.
Whenever he represented the Hughes branch family at these banquets, his father always warned him to tread carefully.
But he hadn’t expected me to show up—or to strike at Isabella right in front of everyone.
That was why he’d lost control.
Now, desperate to salvage his standing, he moved as if to rush at me, but the bodyguard blocked his path.
I cast Alexander a dismissive glance and slid into the car without hesitation.
Only then did he notice the license plate.
His face shifted.
“Get out! That’s not a car you’re qualified to sit in.”
What a joke. Since when did I need his permission for where I sat?
As I pulled the door shut, Alexander lunged, jamming his arm into the frame despite the pain.
“Claire, get out now. This is my uncle Ethan’s car.”
He was so focused on me he didn’t even hear Isabella’s moans behind him.
I stared at him, unimpressed.
“So what?”
Seeing my indifference, Alexander grew anxious.