The banquet hall had grown quiet, the whispers carrying easily. Once again, Khloe was the center of attention, every eye fixed on her.
It was obvious-Veronica had tampered with her name card and had been lying in wait for this exact moment of public humiliation.
Khloe’s expression remained unreadable as she let her gaze sweep the tables one more time. Not a single place card bore her name.
The looks directed her way were filled with open mockery, and the smug pride on Veronica’s face was unmistakable. 1
Then, a crisp, clear voice cut through the tension from behind Khloe.
“It seems the organizers are incompetent. I can’t find my name card either.”
Khloe turned. It was Winnie, standing with her arms crossed, one eyebrow arched as she stared down the panicked server. “You can’t even manage the seating arrangements for a banquet? Do you think the guests here tonight are riffraff you can disrespect?”
The server paled, frozen in place.
Khloe seized the opening. “Winnie is right.
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“Everyone here is a respected leader in their field. For the organizers to overlook something as fundamental as seating assignments-it’s not just a slight against Winnie and me, but a sign of disrespect to every guest present.
“Such unprofessionalism will make powerful families think twice before trusting you with future events. The Morrison family, for one, will be hesitant to work with a team this careless.”
“Th-the Morrison family?” The server’s face went ashen. His tray shook so violently he nearly dropped it.
Everyone knew that securing the Morrison family’s presence had been the organizers’ crowning achievement. Khloe’s words were a death sentence.
Winnie’s eyebrow lifted in genuine surprise. For someone who looked so gentle, Khloe’s counterattack had been swift and merciless.
With a casual motion, Winnie pulled over two chairs and placed them neatly at the table. “Since the organizers can’t do their job, we’ll handle it ourselves. Khloe, shall we”
The server, now sweating profusely, didn’t dare stay another second. He practically stumbled over himself, fleeing backstage to find his manager.
Veronica sat frozen, her triumphant expression crumbling into disbelief. She had been waiting to savor Khloe’s humiliation, only to watch her deftly redirect all the blame onto the organizers in just a few sentences.
“Winnie? I thought you left?” Veronica stammered, rising to her feet. Her smile was strained.
Of all people, the one she despised most was her older sister Winnie-a mere adopted daughter, yet doted on by their parents, always standing in her way.
Winnie’s tone was cool. “I’m hungry. I’ll leave after I eat. I registered for this banquet, so my name card should be here.”
Khloe knew Winnie had stepped in deliberately to shield her. She offered a small, grateful smile.
Winnie responded with only a frosty glance in return.
Winnie hadn’t intervened out of kindness. Earlier, in the restroom, she had overheard Veronica scheming with her friends.
She simply couldn’t stand to let Veronica win.
… And besides, Khloe was Michael’s sister.
The memory of how protectively Michael had shielded Khloe the night before-as if Winnie were some kind of threat-still stung.
“Thank you for your help, Miss Olson,” Khloe said softly, “but… I think I’ll sit here.”
Turning back to the table, she pulled out the empty chair and sat down as if it had been hers all along.
“Khloe, who do you think you are? You can’t just sit anywhere you want! Have you no manners at all?”
Veronica lost her composure, her voice rising to a shrill pitch.
“I’ll admit, I don’t know much about banquet etiquette,” Kloe said evenly, a faint, unruffled smile on her lips, ” because this is, in fact, my first time at an event of this caliber.”
The sheer calm with which she owned the insult left Veronica momentarily speechless.
“But,” Khloe continued smoothly, “when I arrived, both the organizers and my family reminded me that, as the principal heiress of the Morrison fortune in Goldmont City I am expected to sit at the head table. To do otherwise would be seen as a loss of respect for the family.”
She gestured lightly to the empty place. “This is the head table, and this seat has no name card. Coincidentally, mine is missing. It seems logical that the organizers reserved this spot for me.”
Her words were delivered with such quiet authority that even skeptical guests found themselves nodding. The Morrison family’s stature was undeniable, and it gave her every right to claim that seat.
“That makes perfect sense. If there’s no card, let Miss Morrison have the seat.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.