Chapter 190 So What If I Hit You?

Chapter 190: Chapter 190 So What If I Hit You?

The standoff in the middle of the restaurant lobby remained completely frozen in time.

​Leon stood firmly with his weapon drawn, his grip steady as the barrel stayed aimed directly at the lead guard. The two restaurant security guards had halted in their tracks, their palms raised high in the air while cold sweat beaded on their foreheads. Victor Grant looked as if he might faint on the spot, his face drained of every drop of color. Meanwhile, Naya Whitmore stood nearby, a smug, cruel grin plastered across her red cheeks as she waited for the execution of the order.

​Veyra felt her heart pounding violently against her ribs, but her external posture remained completely rigid and composure intact.

​She stepped closer to Victor’s shaking hands, speaking directly toward the phone’s speakerphone in a clear, carrying voice.

​"Wesley," she said firmly. "If this foolishness keeps up for another second, someone is going to end up getting killed in this lobby."

​A heavy silence lingered over the line for a heartbeat. Then, the smooth speaker emitted a low, deep chuckle. It was a warm, familiar laugh that carried genuine affection.

​"I would never allow anyone to bring harm to you, Veyra," Wesley replied softly, his voice dropping into a tone of quiet warmth. "You know me better than that."

​The surrounding room instantly dropped into an eerie, suffocating quiet.

​Naya’s triumphant smile vanished from her face in an instant, replaced by utter shock. Victor’s jaw dropped wide open, his eyes bulging as he stared blankly at the phone device in his hands. Even the two stiff security guards exchanged bewildered looks, their raised hands trembling slightly.

​Everyone in that lobby had heard the clear tone of familiarity in Wesley Wynn’s speaker voice. They heard how effortlessly Veyra called the feared leader of the Ravenwood Society by his first name, and they heard the undeniable warmth in how he answered her back.

​In that single moment, Naya Whitmore, Victor Grant, and every watching patron realized the undeniable truth. Veyra and Wesley Wynn were not strangers, nor was she using a stolen card. They had known each other personally for a very long time.

​Naya’s face flushed with deep embarrassment and rage, her fists clenching so hard her manicured nails bit into her palms.

​"You know him?" Naya stammered out, her voice cracking with pure disbelief. "How on earth do you actually know Wesley Wynn?"

​Veyra did not give her the satisfaction of an answer, keeping her calm gaze fixed forward while holding the connection.

​Wesley’s voice came through the speaker once again, switching back to his usual sharp, authoritative clarity.

​"Victor," he called out sharply.

​Victor jumped in place, almost dropping the expensive phone onto the floor. "Y—Yes, Mr. Wynn! I am listening!"

​"Mrs. Solenne is not merely an honored guest holding a high-tier card at the Ravenwood Society," Wesley stated, his tone carrying an absolute weight that demanded compliance. "She is a long-standing personal friend of mine."

​Victor’s face went from pale to deathly white as he stammered over his words. "I... I had no idea, Mr. Wynn. I deeply apologize for my terrible ignorance."

​"Well, you are fully aware of it now," Wesley replied, his voice turning icy and direct. "Ensure that you treat her with the utmost respect and care accordingly."

​Without waiting for another word of apology, the line went completely dead as he ended the call.

​Victor stared blankly at the dark phone screen for a second before snapping his gaze back toward Veyra, then shifting nervously to look at Naya.

​His entire attitude underwent an instant, drastic transformation. The stiff, arrogant posture he had maintained earlier completely dissolved into a humble, bowing stance. His shoulders slumped forward, and his tone became soft and deeply deferential.

​"Mrs. Solenne," Victor said hurriedly, bowing his head repeatedly before her. "I offer you my most sincere, heart-felt apologies for this outrageous confusion. Please, I beg of you to forgive my foolish mistake."

​Veyra gave a faint, calm nod. "It is fine."

​"Your identity and high status are completely recognized," Victor continued quickly, wiping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. "You are one of the most valued guests of our establishment and the Ravenwood Society as a whole."

​Naya’s face twisted into a mask of pure frustration as she stepped forward. "And what about my reservation? What about my family’s status?"

​Victor glanced at her carefully, his tone turning polite yet strictly distant. "Ms. Whitmore, I am certain my staff can locate a secondary table for your party in another section of the floor."

​A faint buzzing vibration came from inside Veyra’s leather handbag.

​She reached down, pulling out her personal phone to check the screen. A new direct text message from Wesley had just popped up.

​Dinner at Bordeaux 101 tonight. My treat to make up for the messy distraction. Are you free?

​Veyra quickly typed out a short, polite response on her screen. I cannot make it tonight. I have prior commitments, but thank you for helping clear the air.

​A second later, his reply came back instantly. Another time then. You are always welcome whenever you decide to visit.

​She quietly locked her phone screen and tucked the device back into her bag.

​Victor cleared his throat nervously, making a sweeping gesture toward the grand hallway.

​"Mrs. Solenne," he said respectfully. "Please, step right into the main private dining suite. The entire room is completely at your disposal for as long as you wish."

​Veyra shook her head slightly, keeping her stance grounded. "I have no desire to accept special treatment or favors for nothing."

​Victor blinked in surprise, waving his hands defensively. "It is not a personal favor, ma’am! It is your absolute right as an honored VIP member of the society!"

​"However, the reservation was initially claimed by Ms. Whitmore," Veyra pointed out logically.

​"Ms. Whitmore can easily be accommodated in our secondary private suite," Victor stated firmly.

​Naya’s sharp voice immediately cut through the air. "I refuse to sit in a secondary room! I asked for the main suite, and I am not taking anything less!"

​Victor turned to face her, his voice holding a firm boundary for the first time. "I am truly sorry, Ms. Whitmore. But the rules governing the Ravenwood Society VIP system are absolute. Mrs. Solenne holds the highest priority here today."

​Naya’s face drained of color, leaving her standing there looking completely humiliated.

​She had been openly outshone and pushed aside in front of dozens of watching patrons. To make matters worse, it was by Veyra, the very woman she had looked down upon as an outsider.

​Her pride could not handle the crushing blow.

​She stomped right up to Veyra, her voice rising in a loud, demanding tone that echoed across the entrance hall.

​"What exactly is your real relationship with Wesley Wynn?" Naya demanded, her eyes wide with suspicion. "How do you really know a man like him? Why is he treating you like you are someone special?"

​Veyra looked at her with cool, unbothered eyes. "That is none of your concern."

​"It is entirely my business!" Naya shouted out, abandoning all high-society manners. "You are married to Dorian Thorne! You shouldn’t be running around behind his back—"

​"I shouldn’t be doing what, exactly?" Veyra’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits, cutting her off cleanly. "I shouldn’t have my own personal acquaintances? I shouldn’t have my own professional connections? I shouldn’t exist as an individual with a life outside my marriage?"

​Naya’s cheeks flushed red with rage. "You are stepping outside your marriage! You are using Wesley Wynn to boost yourself—"

​"Enough," Veyra said, her voice dropping into an icy register that silenced the heiress instantly. "You know nothing about my life. You know nothing about my marriage to Dorian, and you certainly know nothing about my history with Wesley."

​Veyra turned her back on her, completely dismissing her presence.

​She already had a far more important meeting scheduled for the afternoon. Director Hayes from the medical faculty was waiting for her outside, and she had zero interest in wasting another minute on petty arguments in a restaurant lobby.

​She began walking calmly toward the main glass doors of the establishment.

​Naya rushed right behind her, her voice growing higher and more desperate as she tried to drag her back into a scene.

​"You think you can just turn around and walk away from me?" Naya screeched out from behind. "You think you won something here today? You haven’t won a single thing! You are still just a nobody from the streets who used a pregnancy to trap a wealthy man into signing a paper!"

​Veyra kept moving forward with steady steps, refusing to give her a reaction.

​"You trapped Dorian into marrying you!" Naya yelled out hysterically, losing all control as the surrounding crowd gasped. "You used a cheap trick to secure a position you never deserved! You aren’t special at all! You are nothing more than a shameless woman!"

​Veyra stopped dead in her tracks.

​She slowly turned around on her heel to face Naya once more.

​Before Naya could even register the movement, Veyra’s right hand shot out through the air with swift precision.

​SLAP!

​The heavy, ringing sound of the strike cracked through the large lobby like a whip, echoing off the high marble walls. Naya’s head was knocked far to the side from the force of the blow, her manicured hand flying up to cover her burning, red cheek in total shock.

​The entire restaurant let out a loud, unified gasp of horror.

​Veyra stood tall, her voice dripping with absolute composure and deadly calm.

​"So what if I hit you?" Veyra said, looking down at her with cold contempt. "Go run home and tattle to your councilman father."

​Naya’s dark eyes blazed with wild, unhinged fury. Growling in frustration, she raised her own hand high, attempting to strike Veyra back across the face.

​Veyra’s hand moved like lightning, catching Naya’s wrist firmly mid-air. Her grip locked around the thin wrist like an iron band, preventing her from moving an inch.

​"Do not make the foolish mistake of thinking I will stand here and let you lay a hand on me," Veyra warned in a low, dangerous tone.

​She gave a firm shove, pushing Naya’s arm back. Naya stumbled backward a few steps, her heels catching on the carpet edge until she barely caught her balance against the side of a nearby dining table. Her face was flushed bright red, and her eyes welled up with bitter, humiliated tears.

​"You will live to deeply regret what you did today," Naya spat out through her gritted teeth, her body shaking with intense rage.

​"I highly doubt that," Veyra replied smoothly.

​Unable to handle the overwhelming embarrassment any longer, Naya snapped, "Just you wait!" before turning around and storming out through the front doors.

​The doors slammed shut behind her retreating figure.

​The restaurant lobby fell back into a total, awkward silence.

​Victor Grant remained frozen in place near the podium, looking utterly drained. The security guards stared down at the floorboards, trying to avoid all eye contact, while the remaining diners quickly looked away and pretended to focus on their meals.

​Veyra turned her attention back toward her bodyguard.

​"Let us leave," she said quietly.

​Leon gave a respectful nod, smoothly holstering his weapon beneath his suit jacket, and followed closely behind her as they walked out into the afternoon air.

​A short drive later, Veyra arrived near the main administrative plaza near the university grounds.

​Director Hayes was already waiting near the entrance fountain, dressed in a professional suit and holding a thick paper folder in her arms. Her expression was warm and welcoming as she spotted Veyra approaching.

​"Mrs. Solenne," Director Hayes greeted kindly, stepping forward. "I have your official paperwork right here."

​Veyra reached out and accepted the folder. Despite all her inner strength, her fingers trembled slightly with excitement as she opened the seal. Inside lay the formal admission letter to the advanced medical program, stamped with the official seal of the university board.

​She had officially been accepted. All her late nights of studying and endless preparation had finally paid off.

​"Thank you so much, Director Hayes," Veyra said, a genuine smile breaking across her face.

​Director Hayes offered a gentle smile in return. "There is actually an additional piece of news I thought you would be thrilled to hear about."

​Veyra looked up, curious. "What kind of news?"

​"The Major Pharmaceutical Research Institute is currently opening a massive recruitment drive for fresh talent," Director Hayes explained cheerfully. "They are actively hunting for dedicated researchers, field developers, and young minds with a strong medical background like yours."

​Veyra felt her heart leap with sudden excitement. The Major Pharmaceutical Research Institute was the top research facility in the entire region, holding state-of-the-art laboratories and massive funding.

​"Are you truly serious?" Veyra asked, her eyes lighting up.

​"I am completely serious," Director Hayes reassured her with a confident nod. "Given your outstanding entry scores and background, I can easily write a direct letter of recommendation for you if you wish to apply."

​Veyra nodded without a single moment of hesitation. "Yes, I am deeply interested in taking that chance."

​She carefully tucked the acceptance letter safely into her bag, feeling a sense of true accomplishment as she walked back toward her waiting car, ready for whatever challenge lay ahead.