The Returned Heiress Who Had It All (Cassia) novel Chapter 109

109 Tantrum

Chapter 109 Tantrum

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“Dad!” Danica cried out, her voice sharp with rage. “You’re taking Cassia’s side again! You never care about me! You don’t love me anymore!”

Her eyes filled with tears. Her voice rose, breaking under her own hysteria.

“Stop it, Danica,” Vance said coldly. “I’ve always loved you. You’re embarrassing yourself in front of our guests.”

Vincent did not look happy at all, but there were too many guests around. He couldn’t just yell at his daughter.

“I don’t care! You don’t love me! If you did, you wouldn’t let her touch Brie’s cake!”

And with that, she dropped onto the polished floor, kicking and screaming like a child in the middle of a tantrum.

Someone clicked their tongue. “So this is the Woods‘ second daughter?”

The whispers rippled through the crowd like a current, full of amusement and mockery. A few women lifted their champagne flutes to hide their laughter, pretending to sip as their eyes gleamed with gossip.

Vance spotted the smirks and felt his patience snap in half. His voice thundered through the hall. “Enough! You’ve made a big enough scene! Someone take her upstairs right now and lock her in her room. She can sit there and think about what she’s done!”

Danica shrieked in protest, but the staff had already moved in. Her heels scraped the marble floor as they pulled her away.

Victoria didn’t even try to salvage the situation. She slipped away quietly and locked herself inside her room, refusing to face the humiliation.

Vance exhaled, forcing a tight, polite smile. He turned back to the guests and said, “I’m terribly sorry. My daughter’s young and doesn’t always know how to behave.”

A few guests chuckled, eager to smooth things over. “Vance, you’ve always been so strict. No wonder Cassia turned out so composed, and Brie’s so graceful. Your second daughter, though… She’s got quite the spirit.”

Another voice joined in. “Ah, the youngest one’s always spoiled. It’s the curse of being the favorite.”

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Chapter 109 Tantrum

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Laughter spread across the room.

Hearing that, Vance felt some of the tension leave his chest. The conversation was turning. Maybe the damage wasn’t as bad as it looked.

But upstairs, the mulled thuds of fists hitting a door echoed through the ceiling, Danica’s voice rose in angry cries, her tantrum carrying down the staircase.

Vance’s expression tightened again. His good mood for the night had been completely destroyed by his daughter’s scene.

He forced another smile and clapped his hands once. “Please, everyone, carry on. Eat, drink, and enjoy yourselves. Please don’t let this ruin the evening.”

Brie stood stiffly, her hands trembling just a little. She had never seen her father explode like that. She’d even forgotten to tell Danica to shut up.

Danica, the girl who always got her way, was being punished in front of everyone.

Brie realized then that no one could humiliate Vance and get away with it. Not even his favorite child.

She took a deep breath, smoothed her dress, and stepped forward. She reached for the knife and began slicing the cake into perfect, even pieces. “Please, everyone, have some cake,” she said with a soft, practiced smile.

Her composure shifted the mood almost instantly. The crowd began to murmur again, this time with admiration.

“She’s such a lovely girl.”

“So poised. So well–mannered.”

Vance’s jaw relaxed as he watched. The corners of his mouth twitched into a faint, satisfied smile.

That’s my Brie, he thought. Always graceful. Always knowing how to fix a mess.

Not like Danica, who had made him the laughingstock of the night. She was going to learn what discipline meant when this was over.

Cassia had already finished her food. She wasn’t interested in watching the fake smiles and polite flattery any longer. She turned toward the stairs, ready to head back to her room and

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Chapter 109 Tantrum

finish her racing game.

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But before she could take another step, a wave of murmurs rose near the entrance. She turned her head slightly.

The double doors opened, and a line of men in matching black suits strode in. Each one wore sunglasses, even under the glow of the chandelier. Every man carried a massive bouquet of deep red roses, their movements crisp and coordinated like soldiers on parade.

They didn’t look like guests. They looked like bodyguards. The room filled with gasps. The bouquets were identical to the one Kaleb had given earlier–ninety–nine roses in each. But there were dozens of men, nearly a hundred.

Someone spoke up in disbelief. “Wait … that’s got to be nearly ten thousand roses!”

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