Their heated exchange spiraled out of control, turning the engagement party into an utter spectacle of chaos.
Hazel instinctively turned to Ambrose for support, but his hand struck her cheek with a resounding slap before she could utter a word.
“Go home and sober up if you’re drunk. Stop making a scene! Look at yourself; how could you ever expect to be the future mistress of the family?”
His cold words stung far worse than the slap, but the pain didn’t end there. Her father, instead of defending her, added fuel to the fire.
“Your sister just returned, and this is how you treat her? Where’s your dignity as the elder sister? If your Aunt Althea takes offense at this, I won’t forgive you!”
The crowd stood silently, their eyes fixed on Hazel as the two men berated her mercilessly. Every word felt like a dagger, stripping away the last shred of her composure.
Then, as if to twist the knife deeper, Ambrose turned his back on her, escorting Scarlett away without a glance in her direction.