The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life

Chapter 17 Make Her Beg

For Mercy

Rita's eyes sparkled with excitement, her face aglow with delight. She was certain that one slap from Tracy would leave Corrine's cheek puffed up like a balloon.

Tracy's hand whipped through the air, carrying a fierce gust of wind, but just as it was about to strike Corrine's cheek, she caught it firmly.

Tracy's eyes widened in shock as she stared at Corrine.

Instinctively, she struggled to break free, but her wrist was held fast. Panic flickered in her eyes. "Corinne, what on earth are you doing?" she demanded.

Corrine's mocking smile stretched across her face. She leaned in, her voice laced with sarcasm. "I was taught to show respect to the elderly and care for the young. But if you insist on flaunting your authority, I won't hesitate to give you a taste of your own medicine."

"How dare you!" Tracy's face flushed with anger, her teeth clenched in outrage. "Corinne, you're begging for

trouble! Bruce won't forgive you for this!"

Corrine chuckled lightly and suddenly released Tracy's wrist. "Whether he forgives me or not is none of my

concern."

Tracy staggered in her high heels, nearly tumbling to the floor, but Rita rushed to steady her.

"Let's get out of here," Tracy scoffed, biting her lip in frustration, and turned away without a glance back.

Once outside the ward, Rita couldn't help but grumble, "Mom, Corinne is getting more and more arrogant. Wenoveldrama

need to teach her a lesson."

"Shut up!" Tracy snapped, her voice laced with frustration as she rubbed her sore wrist. "Stop provoking her!"

Rita murmured reluctantly, "Okay."

Her gaze dropped, hiding the malicious glint in her eyes.

She vowed to remember this slap, and one day, Corinne would beg for mercy.

With Tracy and Rita gone, Corrine finally found herself in the rare silence she longed for.

She closed her eyes, savoring the stillness-until, once again, the door swung open.

"Can't v

you people take a hint Corrine muttered under her breath, her annoyance thick in her voice as her

gaze shifted toward the door.

To her surprise, it wasn't Tracy who entered, but a tall, unfamiliar man dressed in a sleek black suit. His

presence seemed almost deliberate.

Corrine's irritation flared, but she masked it with a veneer of politeness. "And you are?" she asked, arching an eyebrow, her voice cool.

"Hello, Miss Holland. I'm Matias Jimenez, Mr. Hopkins' special assistant," he said, offering a courteous nod. "He specially prepared these fruits for you."

Corrine's sharp gaze narrowed slightly as she processed the name. Mr. Hopkins... the connection was clear in an instant. Her expression remained composed, but her voice carried an edge.

"I appreciate Mr. Hopkins' kindness, but I don't accept gifts without a proper reason. Please, take them back."

She was never fond of receiving favors from strangers; especially knowing Nate's intentions toward her. Accepting his offerings would only serve to silently acknowledge his advances.

Matias kept his smile fixed, his demeanor unwavering. His eyes revealed nothing, but his words carried an almost imperceptible weight. "It seems what I've prepared doesn't meet your expectations, Miss Holland. Please, allow me a moment to arrange something else that will satisfy you."

His implication was clear-if she rejected the fruit, he'd simply return with another offering until she accepted.

Corrine paused, her fingers tapping against the armrest thoughtfully. With a resigned sigh, she relented, though not without a trace of reluctance. "Just leave it here, then."

"Of course. Please enjoy, Miss Holland." Matias carefully placed the fruit on the table, his movements deliberate, before glancing at Corrine with a watchful eye.

Corrine's gaze shifted to the fruit-freshly cut and arranged with a level of precision and elegance that couldn't be found in any ordinary market. It was almost too perfect.

"Please convey my thanks to Mr. Hopkins," Corrine said, her voice softer but still distant. Just as Matias turned. to leave, a thought crossed her mind, and she called out to him, "It's going to rain outside. Take this umbrella with you."

Matias froze for a brief moment, and then turned back with a smile that held an unexpected warmth. "Thank

you, Miss Holland."

As he met her eyes, the scrutiny from earlier shifted into something else-a quiet understanding, perhaps event

appreciation.