Chapter 120
Without another word, she strode toward the office door, her heels clicking purposefully against the floor. Chris watched her go, his brows furrowed. "Where is she going now?" he wondered, remaining where she'd instructed. He was curious to see her explanation. He believed he'd been too harsh, too aggressive, and Stephanie needed time to cool down. Once calm, she would return with a reasonable explanation.
Outside the office, Jennifer saw Stephanie exit and respectfully greeted her, "Hi, Miss Giovanni." But Stephanie ignored her, heading straight for the restroom and the janitor's mop bucket. The bucket was full of dirty water from cleaning the floor. Without hesitation, Stephanie grabbed it and returned toward the office.
Jennifer's eyes widened in alarm. She quickly intervened, "Miss Giovanni, what are you doing with that? Let me help you." The water was filthy; it had just been used to mop the bathroom floor.
"No need. Mind your own business," Stephanie said flatly.
Jennifer froze. "That tone… something is definitely wrong," she thought. Her gaze flickered toward the office, where Chris was. Then it clicked. Jennifer's jaw nearly dropped. "Oh my god, she wouldn't…" she wondered.
Inside the office, Chris barely had time to react before Stephanie pushed open the door and re-entered.
"That was fast," he remarked, raising an eyebrow. "So, have you cooled off already?" The words were barely out before he saw the bucket. A bad feeling washed over him. Before he could react, a wave of icy, putrid water drenched him from head to toe. Chris froze, jolted by the shock of the cold.
With a loud thud, Stephanie slammed the empty bucket onto the floor.
"Stephanie, what the hell are you doing?" Chris roared, his body soaked, water dripping into his eyes, blurring his vision. "Damn it! Wait… What was this smell? So stinky," he thought.
Chris swiped at his face, flinging water aside. His furious gaze locked onto Stephanie, burning with rage. She stood, arms crossed, unfazed. "Are you awake now? Or is there still something you don't understand?"
Chris's jaw clenched. If looks could kill, Stephanie would have been destroyed. But she wasn't finished. Seeing his enraged silence, she repeated herself, word for word. "Do you still not get it? Next time, it won't be cold water. It'll be boiling."
You dare to question me so rudely? If I don’t show you what I’m made of, you’ll think I’m here to be pushed around, Stephanie thought.
Chris was so furious his mind went blank. Never had anyone dared to treat him like this. From birth, the Ashford family name commanded respect. After taking over the Ashford Group, he'd only encountered deference. Stephanie was the exception.
His rage boiled over as he shot to his feet, towering over her. "Looks like you don't want to keep your studio open."
But Stephanie didn't flinch. She met his gaze, unfazed. "Then you'll have to shut it down first."
Her calm defiance fueled Chris's fury. His eyes burned, but then, as quickly as it ignited, his anger was extinguished. He gritted his teeth. "You just wait." With that, he stormed toward the door, radiating hostility.
Behind him, Stephanie let out a cold, unimpressed scoff. Chris's expression darkened further. Stephanie, I won’t stop until it’s your time to go to hell! he vowed inwardly.