The silence in the dining room was suffocating. Kiana's lower lip trembled, tears spilling over her lashes in an instant, turning her into the picture of a victim.
She turned to her mother, her voice a high-pitched whine. "Mommy! Did you hear what she said? She called Alexis trash!"
Georgiana shot to her feet, her chair scraping violently against the floor. She pointed a manicured finger at Blair, her face twisted in rage.
"Blair! How dare you speak to your sister like that! Apologize to her right now!"
There was no inquiry into what started it. There was no fairness. There was only the instinct to protect the golden child and crush the unwanted one.
Blair didn't even glance at Georgiana. She kept her eyes locked on Kiana, her gaze steady and cold as a surgeon's scalpel.
Instead of arguing, Blair shifted gears. Her voice was calm, cutting through the tension with terrifying precision. "Kiana, as the CEO of Stellosphere Quadrant, let me give you a piece of professional advice."
She was no longer the jilted sister; she was the corporate executive, and she was about to audit a disaster.
"Your little stunt with Alexis Ashley is, at its core, a PR play. I don't care that you used him," Blair said, pacing slowly behind Kiana's chair. "But you chose the most idiotic execution possible. You tried to climb the ladder by stepping on my face."
"I did not!" Kiana protested, wiping her tears.
"Didn't you?" Blair stopped, tilting her head. "Every trending hashtag your team bought included the tag 'Blair Guzman's Ex.' Did you think I wouldn't notice the digital footprint?"
Kiana's face drained of color. The truth was a blunt instrument, and Blair was swinging it hard.
"Congratulations," Blair continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've successfully demonstrated to every potential business partner that a Glover heir is willing to create a public relations disaster for the sake of a fleeting, tabloid-worthy romance. Have you calculated how many millions in perceived value you just wiped off the Glover Group's next round of negotiations?"
She turned her gaze away from Kiana and swept it across the older relatives at the table, the ones who cared about nothing but the family's reputation. "This doesn't damage my name. It damages the Glover name."
The uncles and aunts shifted uncomfortably in their seats. The air of amusement at Blair's humiliation evaporated, replaced by the sour realization of a PR crisis.
Blair's voice went sub-zero. "And more importantly, we are sitting here tonight to discuss my marriage, aren't we?"
She looked down the table at her father, who had paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Father, do you want the family of your future son-in-law to open the newspapers and see that his bride's sister is publicly stealing her boyfriend?"
The phrase "sister-in-law stealing the boyfriend" was social dynamite. It was vulgar, scandalous, and absolutely toxic to any high-society negotiation.
"Have you calculated how much value this scandal subtracts from the Glover Group at the negotiating table?" Blair asked, her voice echoing in the stunned silence.
Hughie's face turned a dark, mottled red. He hadn't thought about the business angle. He had been too busy enjoying Blair's public embarrassment to see the landmine Kiana had stepped on.
Georgiana, however, was too blinded by rage to see the trap. "You are lying! You're just trying to scare us!"
"I'm not threatening," Blair said, her eyes finally snapping to Georgiana. The coldness in them made the older woman take a step back. "I am stating a fact. A qualified heir knows how to mitigate risk, not create scandals."
It was a double insult. Kiana was a fool, and Georgiana was a failure of a mother for raising her.
Georgiana's mouth opened and closed, her chest heaving, but the logic was airtight. She couldn't refute the business argument in a room full of business people. She looked like she was having a stroke.
Kiana shrank back in her chair, terrified. She had never seen this side of Blair. This wasn't the cold, distant sister; this was a predator.
Blair walked back to her seat, sat down, and took a slow, deliberate sip of her wine. She looked completely unbothered, as if she hadn't just dismantled her sister and mother in front of the entire family.
The room was dead silent. No one dared to breathe. Tristan looked at her, a mix of shock and fierce pride in his eyes.
Then, a voice broke the silence. It was old, dry, and carried the weight of absolute authority.
"Well said."
Every head in the room swiveled toward the far end of the table. Joella Glover, the matriarch, slowly placed her silverware down on her plate. Her eyes, sharp as a hawk's, were fixed on Blair.
