Chapter 15:

Colton’s voice was laced with frustration. "Allison, I suggest you speak to us properly," he began, but his words were cut short when she raised her hand.

"Of course, I'll speak properly," she said. "In fact, I've been speaking properly, unlike the secretary your father brought to the wedding. According to her, the Stevens family has other sons besides you."

Allison thrived on hitting back hard. Her eyes gleamed with calculated cruelty. "And judging by Miss Johnson's mother's behavior—who acted more like a street brawler than a wedding guest—I'd say she's got her husband under control. At least she won't have to deal with as many affairs as your family!" The words stung.

That was Allison's gift: knowing exactly where to strike. She never forgot a slight and was always prepared to retaliate where it hurt most.

Melany's face drained of color, her breath catching in her throat. The fiasco at her wedding had been humiliating, and now Allison had the audacity to rub salt in her fresh wound. Allison wasn't just insulting her; she was humiliating her—a grievance Melany could hardly swallow. Taking a deep breath, Melany kept her anger at bay and resorted to her usual pity act, squeezing out a tear or two.

"Onyx and I are just friends! How dare you imply otherwise?" Her voice cracked, her eyes shimmering with tears. "And you've insulted my parents! The Stevens family has treated you so well, but you still drag their name through the mud?"

Allison's lips curled into a mocking smile. Her voice was casual, almost lazy. "Miss Johnson, I wasn't insulting your parents. I was praising their ability to keep their marriage intact. Not everyone is so… lucky. Right, Mr. Stevens?" She idly examined her manicured nails.

To everyone watching, Allison was the epitome of arrogance.

"You!" Colton's jaw tightened. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, his mind racing back to his father's infamous affairs and the illegitimate children scattered across towns. Allison had just torn open old wounds, and his temper flared. He lunged forward, intending to grab her wrist, but Allison's icy stare froze him in place. She didn't need to say a word; the glint in her eyes was enough to remind him of the time she had single-handedly stuffed a burly man twice her size into a garbage bin. Indeed, this was a fight he couldn't win. He stopped, rooted to the spot, his chest rising and falling with barely contained rage. His expression twisted, darkening like a storm gathering on the horizon.

"Let's not escalate things further," Onyx interjected, stepping in. "Mr. Stevens, we're all friends here. Perhaps it's best to discuss our business elsewhere."

Onyx, who had known Allison from their time together in Leswington when he was her comic editor, was still unaware of her fighting skills. Unlike Colton, he hadn't yet learned to tread carefully around her. He had no desire to prolong the argument. The Stevens Group had risen rapidly in recent years, and losing a valuable connection like Onyx was not something Colton could afford.

"As for you, Miss," Onyx began, his voice laced with cold authority, "you've been causing a scene here for a while now. I've held back from commenting, as I don't like being rude to women. If you're going to accuse me of plagiarism, confront me with actual proof. Do you have any? You claim I used your discarded drafts, but where are they? Show them, and we can compare."

Allison remained unfazed. She had seen this tactic coming. After all, she had handed him most of her unused sketches back then for sorting. When she later inquired about them, he claimed they'd been shredded for her own safety—to ensure they couldn't be misused. At the time, she hadn't thought much of it, considering those sketches worthless. How ironic, then, that the very scraps she had carelessly discarded had become another man's treasure. Onyx had turned her trash into a fortune for himself.

Melany seized the moment, her voice dripping with condescension. "Exactly! If you're accusing Onyx of plagiarism, where's the proof? You can't just slander someone without evidence. Or are you that naive?"

Allison's patience was wearing thin, but she remained calm. She had come prepared for this.

"Enough," Onyx said, shifting his tone to one of calculated magnanimity. "Stop this bickering. We have a collaboration to discuss, and my fans are waiting outside." His words were carefully chosen to convey his generosity, though the underlying arrogance was evident. "I sincerely hope this is the last time I hear such baseless accusations. Miss, if you continue spreading rumors without proof, I won't hesitate to sue you."

With that, Onyx strode confidently out of the lounge, throwing a playful kiss to the adoring crowd. "Onyx, we love you!" the fans screamed in unison, their admiration making him feel invincible.

Watching the display, Colton's demeanor grew serious, his resolve hardening. Onyx was a valuable asset, and manipulating public perception through him was an enticing opportunity. Eyes still fixed on the scene, Colton muttered, "Allison, if you have half a brain, you'll leave before this turns into a lawsuit."

But as the words left his mouth, he noticed something: Allison was already gone. She had slipped out of the lounge without a sound.