Chapter 130
Chapter 130:
Rosanna pressed her lips together, frustration burning in her chest. She had been wondering the same thing — who exactly was backing Maia now? Before she could spiral deeper into her thoughts, the door creaked open once more.
Stacy walked into the room, her face bright with excitement, ready to join the fun. The second she caught sight of the disaster inside, her smile faltered and slipped away. Disbelief flashed across her features as she took in the scene. Everyone looked wrecked — hair askew, clothes wrinkled or torn at the seams. No one looked worse than Rosanna, though, who sat slumped with a ruined dress and bruises dotting her arms.
Across the floor, puddles of liquor and shattered glass created a chaotic, glittering mess.
Stacy stared around in shock and asked, “What the hell happened here?” The question hung awkwardly in the air. Eyes darted from woman to woman, and after a long pause, one of them forced a dry laugh. “It’s nothing, really! We were just… having a little too much fun p>
Before anyone could attempt a better cover-up, the door slammed open with a bang that rattled the walls.
A troop of bodyguards stormed inside, moving with swift precision as they fanned out and surrounded them.
For a beat, no one said a word. The socialites sat frozen, unsure whether to scream or flee.
A man in a sharp suit followed behind them, his gaze cutting across the room like a knife. His voice was low but brutal. “Starting trouble here? Get them out. Now p>
What?
Hands grabbed them roughly. Designer heels scraped against the floor as they were dragged out into the hallway like criminals.
Stacy, still too stunned to protest, found herself shoved along with the rest. She had barely stepped into the party, and now she was being thrown out like trash. Onlookers crowded around as they stumbled outside, their makeup smeared and hair in tangles. Murmured jokes and mocking laughter filled the air.
“Man, this place is wild. Even the escorts look like a mess tonight p>
Escorts?
Hearing the insult hit them harder than any slap. Their anger flared hot and fast. One of the women shouted back, her voice shaking, “Who the hell are you calling an escort? You’re asking for it p>
“If you’re not an escort, then what are you pretending to be? A bunch of wannabe heiresses? Give me a break p>
The heat of humiliation painted their faces red. Some looked ready to cry, others ready to fight.
Rosanna stood apart from the commotion, her arms wrapped around herself, fighting back tears. “It’s Maia,” she whispered. “She must have gotten her man to talk to the club’s owner… they set us up p>
Hearing that name again ignited a new fury in the group.
“That bitch is going to regret this p>
By the time Rosanna stepped inside the Morgan Villa, the anger burning in her chest had only grown fiercer. There was no calming the storm raging inside her.
How could she possibly stand by and let Maia walk away with that bracelet? Whether or not the bracelet was truly worth 150 million, it didn’t matter. If Maia hadn’t taken her place all those years ago, that bracelet would have been hers.
It was hers by right, and she was not about to give it up now.
At this thought, Rosanna’s eyes narrowed with cold determination.
Without hesitating, she grabbed her phone and started typing on social media.