The only reason their stock price was rising was because I found out about my brother's fiancée ahead of time, pulled some strings overseas, and boosted the company for a while.
I just never expected Eliza to use this as an excuse to act like a tyrant.
She didn't know—if I wanted that stock price to crash, it would crash.
With that thought, I lifted a broken palette from the ground and said slowly, each word sharp and clear, "Why don't you think about how you're going to compensate me first?"
Every product on the floor was from the highest-end luxury brands. The total easily exceeded a million.
Hearing that, Eliza burst into mocking laughter. "A gold digger is still a gold digger. Exposed for not being a virgin and immediately breaking down?"
"Now she's even trying to extort money."
The bridesmaids chimed in, kicking aside the scattered products.
"Look at these brands—never seen or heard of them. These must be some cheap knockoffs."
"Good thing Eliza noticed early. Imagine if she let this woman touch her face—it would've been ruined!"
"And who knows what diseases a woman like her carries? Using her things? Absolutely disgusting!"
I ignored them and simply took photos of the damaged makeup.
The loss was easily over a million, enough to file a case.
"What? Cat got your tongue?" Eliza's voice grew even more triumphant as I stayed silent.
Eliza kicked at the hem of my dress.
"Wearing something that's so slutty—don't tell me you usually use bridal makeup gigs as an excuse to seduce the groom?"
My hand paused mid-air.
I was the chairwoman of an internationally renowned cosmetics corporation, worth hundreds of billions, and a globally recognized makeup artist.
Countless celebrities begged for an appointment with me and still couldn't get a slot. And yet here I was, lowering myself to do her makeup—only because she was marrying Maverick.
And she dared to insult my professionalism?
When she opened her mouth again, I lifted my gaze and met hers head-on.
"You're pregnant before marriage and still claim to have some kind of virginity complex?"
A laugh escaped me. "Seriously? You? Calling anyone else dirty?"
"Where do you get that kind of face?"
She hadn't expected me to fight back. Her cheeks flushed bright red. "The baby in my stomach belongs to the groom! How is that the same?!"
"I gave him my first time, and I'm marrying him today—how am I not clean?!"