No sooner had Ivy stepped out of the hotel than her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Clara’s voice,
filled with fury, crackled through the line as she answered the call.
“Ivy, what on earth did you do last night? Why is Vincent giving me the cold shoulder now? He won’t
even answer my calls!” Clara’s accusation was sharp, as if Ivy had committed some unforgivable sin
against her.
Ivy, recalling the previous evening’s debacle, felt a chill settle in her gaze. “Do you really want to
know?”
“Of course, I do! Why else would I be calling you?” Clara snapped back, her tone aggressive and
demanding.
Balling her hand into a tight fist, Ivy replied with a steely resolve, “Fine. If you’re so desperate to know,
I’ll tell you myself. I’m on my way home now!”
Before Clara could utter another word, Ivy ended the call.
She hailed a cab and headed straight for the Dunhills’ residence.
Twenty minutes later, Ivy had barely set foot in the Dunhills’ abode when Clara charged at her,
delivering a stinging slap across her face. “Ivy, what did you do? Why is Vincent ignoring me? Are you
only happy when you ruin my career in showbiz?”
Rubbing her reddened cheek, Ivy retorted with a slap of her own, “What right do you have to hit me,
Clara? I owe you
nothing!”
“You… how dare you hit me?” Clara’s face registered shock, disbelief etched across her features.
For years, it had always been Clara who tormented her, never once had Ivy fought back.
“I am no longer the pushover you can bully! Get out of my way!” Ivy shoved Clara aside with distaste
and stormed into the living room.
In the living room, Tessa sat next to Finn. She rose abruptly as Ivy entered. “Ivy, I told you to apologize
to Vincent, but look at what you did. How could you make him ignore your sister’s calls?”
“Apologize? Mom, is that really all you expected of me? How dare you ask me that?” Ivy sneered as
she slumped onto the couch, her eyes icy and detached. “You lured me into Vincent’s private room.
What did you expect me to do? Strip down willingly?”
Clara burst into the room, clutching her face, her eyes brimming with tears as she glared at Ivy. “Dad,
not only did Ivy make Vincent cut me off, but she also hit me the moment she walked in the door.”
“What!” Tessa rushed to Clara’s side, who was touching her face with a look of distress.
“Are you okay, my dear? Is your face alright?”
Clara put on her most pitiful expression. “My face is going to swell up. If I’m disfigured, how am I
supposed to keep working in the industry? Tessa, your daughter Ivy is bent on destroying my career!”
“Darling, calm down… Go get an ice pack for your face. I’ll deal with Ivy,” Tessa reassured, gently
guiding her toward the kitchen for an ice pack.
Clara shot Ivy a harsh glare before storming off to the kitchen.
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