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Chapter_221
Yvette was now the esteemed eldest daughter of the Chambers family, a position that made her the center of attention wherever she went. People wanted to be close to her, admire her, and bask in her power. Winona, on the other hand, was only riding on the Carter family’s coattails. Though she tried to act confident, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of insecurity. She wasn’t a fool—she knew that now wasn’t the right time to pick a fight with Yvette.
After a brief pause, Winona realized her only option was to change her approach. She shifted her tone, trying to sound friendly again, though it was forced. What could she possibly say to Yvette? All she could do now was swallow her pride and turn to Yulia. “Mom, let’s get out of here,” she said, her voice edged with frustration.
Yulia, just as eager to escape the uncomfortable situation, quickly agreed. “Alright, let’s go!”
They tried to downplay the tension and escape the clothing store without drawing any more attention. But their attempt to leave in such a hurry only made the situation more obvious. The onlookers watched, stunned, as Winona, who had just moments ago demanded others kneel and apologize, was now bolting for the exit. The dramatic turnaround didn’t escape anyone’s notice.
The onlookers quickly realized that the two beautiful women who had just entered were no ordinary customers. Winona and Yulia exchanged glances, silently agreeing to leave together, trying to avoid further confrontation.
Winona, who had just claimed her stomach hurt, was now sprinting toward the door. Yulia struggled to keep up, her heels clicking rapidly against the floor as she tried to catch up with her.
Just as they were about to push the door open, a soft but unsettling laugh echoed behind them. It sent chills down their spines, making them instinctively push the door harder, desperate to escape. Then, without warning—Bang! A bullet whizzed past Winona’s ear, narrowly missing her, and lodged itself in the wall, grazing a strand of her hair.
Winona froze, horrified, unable to move. Her face turned pale, her fingers clenched into tight fists, and her body trembled uncontrollably.
Yulia, equally shocked, turned around in disbelief. She stared at Yvette, who stood casually holding a sleek black pistol.
Why does Yvette have a gun? Who is she, really?
In the next instant, the entire clothing store erupted into screams, but no one dared to move. The women, who had never witnessed anything like this before, were frozen in terror.
The pointy-faced salesgirl, standing closest to Yvette, watched in shock as Yvette pulled the gun from her pocket and fired it without hesitation.
The salesgirl collapsed to the ground in disbelief, unable to catch her breath. If she had known that the girl trying on clothes just moments ago had such powerful backing, she would never have helped Winona humiliate her.
“Just shut the hell up,” Yvette said, her voice calm but carrying an undeniable weight. Her words silenced the chaos around her. The room fell eerily quiet, and everyone held their breath in fear. Bonnie, however, was unfazed. She stood tall, staring wide-eyed at Yvette, feeling a strange sense of awe.
‘Oh my God, Yvette looks so badass!’ Bonnie thought, her mind racing. ‘What do I need to do to marry her?’
Yvette casually lounged back on the sofa, propping her chin on her hand, her cold white fingers idly spinning the pistol. “Everyone else, get out,” she ordered in a soft, almost bored tone.
The shoppers froze for a moment, processing her command before scrambling to flee the store. The pointy-faced salesgirl, bracing herself, tried to slip away, but when Yvette shot her an indifferent glance, her heart sank. There was no warmth in Yvette’s eyes—only cold, calculating power. The salesgirl froze, slumping back down, too terrified to move.
Three minutes later, the clothing store had emptied out. Only Winona and Yulia stood near the door, watching as the other customers fled. The pointy-faced salesgirl, now sitting on the floor in defeat, was the last one left, still trembling with fear. Bonnie stood tall, resolute, while Yvette lounged casually on the sofa, her gun still in hand.
Winona’s heart raced as she stared at the weapon. Yvette actually had a gun? Winona couldn’t believe it. She never thought Yvette would be bold enough to pull one out in public. Was she crazy?
Yvette began to play with the gun, her dark eyebrows slightly furrowed. The tension in the room thickened as her deep, intense gaze sent waves of panic through everyone present. “Who called for this?” she asked, her voice low and menacing.
Bonnie hesitated for a moment, then pointed at Winona, who was clutching her stomach. “Yvette, she did it,” Bonnie said, glancing at the pointy-faced salesgirl, who still looked completely out of it.
“And her too,” Bonnie added. “She said I stained the clothes in their store, but I was super careful when I tried them on.”
The pointy-faced salesgirl, finally snapping back to reality, started to panic. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It was all Winona’s idea. She made me set you up! Please don’t blame me! Just let me go!” The girl was crying and pleading, desperate to escape the nightmare she had found herself in.
Winona, however, shot her a cold look and snapped, “You’re the one who tried to impress me. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you!”
It was like watching a dog fight—complete chaos.
Yvette slowly turned her head toward Winona, a small smirk playing at her lips. Her voice, when she spoke, was soft but heavy with threat. “So, Winona hit you. What are you going to do about it?”
Bonnie lowered her head and asked earnestly, “If I call her back, will it hurt her baby?”
Yvette paused for a couple of seconds, her expression softening for a brief moment. Then, a faint smile crossed her delicate features. “No, it won’t change anything.”
Hearing that, Bonnie felt a weight lift from her chest. She was innocent; nothing could happen to the baby. Bonnie cracked her knuckles as she walked toward Winona, her steps steady.
Under Winona’s furious gaze, Bonnie raised her right hand and slapped her hard across the face. “This slap is for you,” she said, her voice firm.
Winona’s face instantly turned red, five clear handprints visible on her cheek. She covered her face, her eyes blazing with rage. She shot Bonnie a nasty look, cursing her under her breath.
This was Bonnie’s first time slapping someone, and her heart was racing. As Winona opened her mouth to respond, Bonnie landed a second slap, quick and fierce.
“Winona, remember this,” Bonnie said, her voice sharp and confident. “No one is born better than anyone else. We can’t choose where we come from, but that doesn’t mean you rich folks can just abuse and trample over ordinary people like us. We all breathe the same air; who’s really better than who?”
Bonnie’s actions surprised everyone in the room, including Yvette, who raised her eyebrows in mild shock. But a satisfied smirk crept onto her face. Bonnie turned to Yvette and grinned.
“Hitting people is definitely an art form. My hand hurts like hell, though!”
