That scream grabbed everyone’s attention.
Noemi was the star of this homecoming party, and now she was absolutely drenched in wine–of course
everyone was staring.
Nathan, who’d been watching from across the room, rushed over.
And Amelia?
Amelia watched Noemi snatch a towel from a panicked server, eyes narrowing dangerously.
She’d come here tonight to try negotiating with Noemi
Noemi had invited her to this wine tasting. Noemi had started the shit.
Noemi had proposed the bet, then tried to back out when she lost.
Setting aside what happened in France during those fifteen minutes when Nathan left–stuff involving Mathis’s secrets–just looking at Noemi’s attitude now, even if Amelia spilled everything about that day, Noemi would just use it against her whenever she felt like it.
And Noemi had actually dared to trash–talk the Visconti family like that. Talk about her father.
If they couldn’t negotiate, then fuck being polite.
If Noemi wanted to play dirty, Amelia wouldn’t give her an inch of respect.
“Amelia, you fucking bitch!” Noemi’s eyes blazed as she raised her hand to slap her.
But Nathan caught her wrist as he rushed up.
“Nathan!” Noemi was furious, eyes bloodshot. “Amelia completely destroyed my party!”
Nathan immediately turned on Amelia.
“Apologize.” Two ice cold words.
Amelia actually laughed.
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Apologize?
He had no clue what went down, and his first instinct was to demand she apologize.
Who the fuck did he think he was?
Vivian hurried over too, looking all shocked and innocent.
The whole ballroom erupted in chatter, voices echoing through the hotel.
“Amelia.” Nathan said her name like a threat.
Amelia smiled sweetly, looking between Nathan and Vivian.
“Sure thing,” she said breezily, turning and walking straight to the musicians.
The pianist had stopped playing, watching nervously.
Amelia reached into the equipment case and pulled out a violin.
She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, her mind was crystal clear.
Her hands moved, and violin music filled the air.
The melody was bright and aggressive with a punchy rhythm, the violin becoming an extension of herself.
Spanish Bullfight
A classic everyone knew.
Amelia had tweaked the bullfight music, and as it built the violin soared higher and shrieked, like
someone laughing in pure mockery,
When she finished, the violin had cut through all the gossip and awkwardness, earning genuine applause.
This was bullfight music.
A matador’s anthem.
Since Amelia was playing, who was the bull?
Obviously wine–soaked Noemi.
And Nathan, who’d jumped to conclusions without knowing shit.
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Ancient people played music to cattle. Now Amelia was playing violin for bulls.
Amelia took a small bow, and when she straightened, she spotted someone in a far corner smiling and raising his glass to her.
He was here too.
That little performance–they both got the joke.
Amelia smirked, set down the violin, and walked back to face Noemi, who looked ready to murder
someone.
“Happy now?” Amelia said cheerfully.
Noemi totally understood the insult, and she was livid, wanting to lunge forward, but Nathan held her
back.
“Noemi, stop!” Nathan snapped.
If this kept going, her party really would be destroyed.
Noemi knew that, and she definitely couldn’t let Nathan find out she’d been grilling Amelia about France.
So she just had to stand there staring at Amelia’s smug smile.
Pure hatred boiling inside.
“Just an accident,” Noemi finally choked out with the world’s fakest smile.
“Wine tasting, you know,” she said. “These things happen.”
After Noemi’s pathetic performance, Amelia turned to leave.
“Amelia.” Nathan reached for her hand.
She yanked away violently.
“Next time you want to bring your girlfriend somewhere, give me a heads up.”
Every word was razor sharp: “I don’t want to be in the same room as a homewrecker. It makes me…”
Amelia’s gaze landed on Vivian.
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“Sick.”
“Amelia!” Nathan’s voice was pure warning, rage building.
But she just gave him one ice–cold look.
Then she was gone, walking out with perfect composure.
Leaving Nathan standing there with clenched fists, watching her elegant exit.
Nathan’s eyes went dangerous as he looked down at Noemi, who was suddenly very busy cleaning her
dress.
They’d moved to a backstage area for privacy.
Vivian hadn’t followed–said she’d caused enough drama and would wait in the car.
She’d even apologized quietly, claiming she just needed to discuss the Yondu Luke thing with Nathan, didn’t mean to cause problems with Amelia.
Now it was just Nathan and Noemi alone backstage.
“What the hell did you say to her?” Nathan demanded.
Noemi’s hand with the towel froze for a second.
“Nathan, she’s the one who attacked me!” Noemi shot back defensively.
But Nathan just stared her down.
Those cold eyes saw right through bullshit.
He knew Amelia–she didn’t do stuff like this for no reason.
Noemi tried to keep lying.
But Nathan’s next words killed that plan.
“You gonna tell me, or should I pull the security footage?” he said.
Noemi’s jaw tightened.
The cameras probably didn’t catch their conversation, but anyone watching could see she’d started the
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confrontation.
So she had to cave, mumbling: “I told her I was joining the finance department at Harrison Corp–the one
that handles the old Visconti stuff.”
She completely buried the France interrogation, downplayed her threats, and made it sound like it was just about her new job.
“Cut the shit!” Nathan barked.
Noemi’s eyes filled with tears.
“Fine! I told her that with my Ivy League finance degree, I’m more than qualified to run that department.
So what!”
“That doesn’t give her the right to humiliate me!”
“Throwing wine in my face in front of everyone?”
“Who does she think she is? Who does she think I am!”
“She knew people were watching and she still made me look like an idiot!”
Noemi was still hiding France and the bet–stuff she absolutely couldn’t admit.
All she could do was amp up the drama, fake outrage, and start crying.
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