Stella's voice was laced with malice, and she knew that nothing else could unsettle Lizetta Gardenia quite like bringing up her most vulnerable spot. When Stella mentioned the baby, it was the final straw for Lizetta, who reacted by slapping Stella across the face. "Ah!" Stella cried out, covering her face and glaring at Lizetta in fury. "How dare you hit me!"

Lizetta smirked, "You were asking for it! Keep pushing, and you'll get a couple more!"

Stella, fists clenched, shot Lizetta a venomous look but ultimately left without saying anything. She knew that even if she complained to Remington Dashiell and Fiona Dashiell, it wouldn't change a thing.

"What did she say to you?" Remington's tall, commanding figure appeared around the corner just as Lizetta was about to leave. It was clear he had witnessed the altercation.

Stella's words had soured Lizetta's mood, erasing the warmth and harmony of their earlier dinner together. Lizetta thought, Stella was willing to take a slap just to deliver those hurtful words-it must have been her intention all along. With a cold voice, Lizetta said, "Oh, are you feeling sorry for her?"

Remington stepped closer and firmly grasped Lizetta's wrist, his handsome face showing anger. "Are you out of your mind? If I felt sorry for her, I'd be asking why you hit her, not what she said to you!"

He was only concerned about what Stella might have said to provoke such a strong reaction from Lizetta, but his obvious concern led her to misinterpret his intentions.

Lizetta's delicate palm under the light, asking, "Does it

slight redness,

the

Lizetta withdraw her hand abruptly. "It's getting chilly; grandma might need a blanket," Lizetta said before walking away, leaving Remington

reaching for

trying to stay out of her wrath, narrowly

"Sorry, miss, right away."

locked in her room, with Mrs. Miller and two servants outside, trying to coax her out with food. Mrs. Miller pleaded with Margaret to open the door, but only the sound of

from one of the

dad made her publicly apologize in the media. She hasn't come out or eaten anything. This can't go on. Stella, you're her best friend; please

and waited for Mrs. Miller to leave before knocking on the door, her voice soft. "Margaret, it's me. Can you open the door? I just want to

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