I Publicly Humiliated The Most Powerful Duke In The City — His Reaction Shocked Everyone
Part 2
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for the absolute disaster that was about to unfold.
The heavy wooden door to my father’s study swung open with a terrifying creak.
Greg Blackwood stepped into the room, dominating the small space entirely.
He wore a perfectly tailored dark blue coat that emphasized the broadness of his shoulders.
My father immediately bowed so deeply he nearly folded himself in half.
Your grace, this is an incredibly unexpected honor.
Greg’s gaze swept right past my father and locked directly onto me with unnerving intensity.
I refused to lower my eyes, holding his stare despite the frantic pounding of my heart.
I prefer to speak with Brenda completely alone.
A shocked, horrified silence followed his completely inappropriate request.
My father stammered something about propriety and ruined reputations.
With the door open, naturally.
Greg clarified the demand with a hint of dark amusement in his voice.
I assure you, your daughter’s reputation is perfectly safe with me.
What remains of it, that is.
The subtle, biting barb made my head snap up in fresh anger.
The challenge in his pale, icy eyes was absolutely unmistakable.
I have no objection.
I spoke before my father could refuse again, desperate to face this threat head-on.
My father reluctantly withdrew to the hallway, leaving the door conspicuously ajar.
For several agonizing moments, the Duke said absolutely nothing.
He simply studied me with the same unsettling, predatory intensity from the night before.
You are either very brave or very foolish, Brenda.
His deep voice sounded deceptively casual, like a tiger playing with its prey.
I have found those two qualities are often entirely indistinguishable.
The corner of his harsh mouth twitched, almost forming a genuine smile.
He moved away from the door, stopping just beyond the bounds of social propriety.
I assume you are here to demand a groveling apology or threaten my family with ruin.
Is that truly what you think of me?
The question seemed genuinely curious rather than offended or angry.
I think you are a man accustomed to having his every whim obeyed without question.
And I defied you publicly in front of the entire city.
He studied my face for another long, stretching moment.
You completely misunderstood the situation between myself and Megan Fisher.
I heard what you said quite clearly.
You heard a tiny fragment of a complex arrangement and leapt to conclusions.
Her father approached me six months ago, desperate for financial assistance.
He offered his daughter’s hand to my younger cousin in exchange for my intervention.
That doesn’t change the fundamental, horrifying issue that she is being traded like property.
My voice lacked some of its previous certainty, confusion clouding my anger.
The match would save her family from total destitution and provide her with absolute security.
My cousin is young, handsome, and completely besotted with her.
He pulled a thick, elegant envelope from his inner coat pocket and held it out to me.
What is this?
An invitation to a small, private dinner party at my home in two days’ time.
The Fishers will attend, and perhaps you might form your own assessment of her actual situation.
I stared at the thick parchment, thoroughly confused by this bizarre turn of events.
I don’t understand you or this twisted game you are playing.
Few do.
He replied softly, a strange weariness hiding beneath his confident exterior.
What would you do if you were standing in my shoes right now?
