While she had been showing off her stock market knowledge, Quentin had been bizarrely silent, offering no input or validation as she rambled on.
Penelope had assumed he was just mesmerized by her intellect, prompting her aggressive advance.
Since he claimed he hadn't known about their old marriage pact until tonight, she figured that seeing her in person would instantly change his mind and make him choose her.
But the spoiled princess was about to learn that Quentin didn't cater to her delusions.
The brutal rejection ignited a fiery, unhinged rage inside her, and she had no intention of holding it back.
Penelope's furious gaze snapped to Madeline, channeling all her humiliation and anger over the broken promise directly at the woman standing beside him.
Madeline sensed the shift a second too late, watching Penelope squeeze the stem of her wine glass and violently hurl the red wine straight at her face.
Before Madeline could even gasp, a powerful force yanked her backward.
She crashed into a solid chest as Quentin spun, shielding her entirely with his own body.
The dark red wine splashed violently against Quentin's back, dripping down the fine embroidery of his tuxedo.
The crowd gasped, realizing something was wrong.
He refused to let a single drop of harm touch her.
Servants rushed over with warm towels, and Quentin calmly wiped the wine from his suit while Tristan snatched the empty glass from his sister's hand and demanded, "Apologize to Mr. Prescott and his girlfriend!"
Tristan had missed the start of the confrontation, but it was obvious his sister had tried to assault Madeline.
"Apologize for what?!"
Penelope wrenched her arm free, her face morphing from bright red fury to hysterical tears as she shrieked, "He's the one who needs to apologize to me! The Prescotts broke their word! His grandfather promised me to him, so they disrespected me first!"

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