Oops, You Dumped A Billionaire - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

The tense scene left everyone utterly speechless. Margot and her lackeys stood frozen in shock, their smug confidence crumbling before their eyes. Walton's face turned ghostly pale, his lips quivering as he choked out,
"Th-this... this can't be happening."
My father, who had been watching everything with an unreadable expression, finally spoke. His voice was calm but carried the weight of absolute authority. "Mr. Gries," he said, pinning Walton with a piercing stare,
"your subordinate has harassed my daughter in her own home. If this disgraceful incident were to become public, it would irreparably damage our family's reputation."
He let the words hang in the air before continuing, "Today was meant to be a celebration—my daughter's birthday. I planned to introduce her properly to society. Instead, you allowed her to be humiliated and assaulted. Are you deliberately mocking the Fitzgerald name?"
Each accusation landed like a hammer blow. Walton's knees visibly buckled under the pressure. He opened his mouth to respond, but only incoherent stutters escaped. Behind him, several crew members swayed on their feet—one even fainted outright from the sheer intensity of the confrontation.
Margot stood petrified, her face drained of color. Her wide, panicked eyes darted to me as I approached, the lion dog cradled protectively in my arms. She flinched as I drew near, her lips twitching uselessly—words failing her now.
I didn't wait for excuses. In one swift motion, I slapped her twice—once for each strike she'd given me earlier. The sharp cracks echoed through the stunned silence, leaving her cheeks flaming red.
"Margot," I said icily, my voice steady as steel, "you hit me twice today. Consider this payback. Feeling brave now? Go ahead—keep putting on your little show."
I stepped closer, watching her cower. "You've always bragged about your connections, about how close we were. Tell me—do you still think you deserve to call yourself my friend? Did you really believe being Velvetline's 'golden producer' gave you the right to play god with people's lives? Crushing me was as easy as stepping on an ant, wasn't that what you said? Well, here I am. Show me your power now."
Her arrogance had evaporated, replaced by pathetic trembling. She hung her head, her voice a shaky whisper. "Miss Fitzgerald... I-I didn't know. Please, forgive me. I'll make it right—I'll return Kieran, compensate you however you want. Just... let me go."
Her groveling drew a bitter laugh from me. "You're not sorry, Margot. You're just scared. If I were still that 'nobody' you thought I was, you wouldn't hesitate to grind me under your heel, would you?" My voice cut like ice.
"You clawed your way up at Velvetline, acting like some all-powerful queen deciding who rises and who falls." I didn't let her interrupt. "I had someone dig into your past. Funny—turns out you've got quite the history of shady deals. And the best part? You're from the same countryside you love to look down on."
Her face went ashen. "You slept your way to the top, didn't you? Played your games to become Velvetline's 'golden producer.' Now you strut around like you're untouchable."
I leaned in, my voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "You've been on that high horse so long, you forgot what it's like to be at the bottom. Didn't anyone warn you? There's always someone stronger—someone you can't bully. And now that you've met your match, you think begging will save you? Too late for that."
Tears welled in her eyes, but I turned away, done wasting breath on her. Desperate, she whirled toward Walton. "Mr. Gries, help me!" she shrieked. "If I go down, I'm taking you with me! I know all your dirty secrets—I'll expose everything!"
Walton, drenched in sweat, snarled back, "You wretched woman! Don't drag me into your mess! This is your doing—disrespecting Miss Fitzgerald, harming her dog. I never should've let you into this company!"