Chapter 162
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The crowd erupted in whispers. The gazes directed at the Joyner family were now laced with open ridícule and contempt. As the murmurs grew louder, the comments turned sharper–meaner.
Franklin, who had spent years rising in social status, had never endured this kind of public humiliation. All thoughts of currying favor with the Lane family vanished. He was ready to tear off the mask and go to war. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access s of novels early and in the highest quality.
“Oh, I see now,” he spat. “You Lane people were afraid we’d ask for benefits, so you staged this whole spectacle to smear us. What a masterstroke!”
The words had barely left his mouth when a fist came flying.
“Ah!” Franklin cried out, toppling to the ground before he could even see who had hit him. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.
He assumed the Lane family had finally lost their temper. But oddly, he didn’t feel angry. If anything, he took a twisted sort of pride in it.
If the Lane family had struck him, it meant they had stooped to his level. And once word got out that they had assaulted their daughter’s adoptive father–on a birthday banquet no less–their PR team would be scrambling to patch things up. He wouldn’t need to chase the Lane family for resources; they’d be the ones begging him to speak kindly of them.
Still, he had to keep up appearances.
He glared in the direction of the attack, eyes burning with righteous indignation.
And froze.
It wasn’t a Lane. It was Jack.
Was his vision failing?
He blinked. No, it was definitely Jack–sleeves rolled up, looking like he was ready to throw another punch.
Everyone knew Jack’s reputation in Jalindale. Wild, fearless, and untouchable. Even within the Lane family, he was treated as someone to please, not provoke. If something offended him, it was perfectly normal for him to respond with fists.
Nobody was surprised.
“What, on a day like this you’re still spewing filth? I’ll beat you into the floor. Got a problem with that?” Jack barked.
Not only did he punch him, he insulted him too–and with complete confidence.
What was worse, no one stepped in
Was there no justice?
“You… you…” Martha stammered, outraged.
Jack dug a finger in his ear, then sneered. “What, your fart–fest of a speech get stuck in your throat? Want me to drag you outside and help get the rest out?”
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The words were so vivid, so crude, that the surrounding guests instinctively took two steps back. No one did anything, but everyone suddenly felt like Franklin stank–like his reputation was physically clinging to him.
Martha and the others rushed to help Franklin up.
“You’ve assaulted my husband for no reason! I’m calling the police!” she shrieked, her voice nearly hysterical.
Shame and rage had obliterated her self–control.
“Scarlett!” she screamed. “You’re just going to stand there while someone beats your adoptive father? This is how you repay us?”
Scarlett gently stopped her parents and brother from intervening, then stepped forward calmly.
She ignored Martha and Franklin entirely, instead nodding politely to Jasper and Jack.
Jasper, ever cool, greeted her with indifference. “The gift’s already been delivered to the hall. Congratulations on coming home.”
One simple line.
And yet it stunned the entire room.
Everyone knew Jasper hated socializing. He was cold and aloof–his only known friend was Jack. Though he was invited to every major event in Jalindale, he never showed up.
But today, he hadn’t just shown up–he brought a gift.
All eyes turned to Scarlett once more, filled with awe and confusion.
Was she really just a country girl?
The disdain from earlier melted into trembling uncertainty.
Scarlett smiled faintly. “Thank you.”
“But I’ve got some personal matters to settle first. I apologize if I’m not the best host right now.”
Jasper nodded. “No problem. Handle your business.”
Only then did Scarlett turn back to the Joyner family.
“You raised me for six years. Spent a total of one hundred thousand. Before the banquet started, I paid it all back.”
“If anyone needs proof, I can provide receipts and payment records.”
One hundred thousand ?
For most people, that might sting. But for this crowd of elites, it was pocket change. Barely a day’s spending. Raising a child–truly raising one–on that? And for six years?
Franklin clenched his teeth, wanting to retort, but his face throbbed so badly he couldn’t speak.
Martha stepped in, voice sharp. “You’re only looking at the visible costs! What about everything else? The
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emotional effort, the unseen support—can you even begin to measure those? You throw them all away without a thought–aren’t you afraid of divine punishment?”
The words were vicious. What kind of mother curses her child like that?
Even among this jaded crowd, shocked murmurs spread again. People were now staring at Martha with visible disdain.
Scarlett, however, remained utterly unshaken. Not a ripple in her expression.
To her, the Joyners had already lost all power to affect her. They were nothing now.
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