?Chapter 647:


    Without hesitation, Matias and Saul stepped forward like enforcers carrying out a sentence. They each seized one of Judie’s arms and wrenched her down, forcing her to her knees on the grass.


    “Let me go!” she shrieked, thrashing against their grip.


    “Do you have any idea who I am? My family will never let you get away with this!” But the crowd had already shifted sides, and the weight of power was no longer in her hands.


    Nate let out a softugh, his voice dripping with mockery.


    “And what makes you think the Seymour family would risk offending me for you?” The words mmed into her like a fist to the gut. Judie froze. The fight drained from her limbs as her mind went nk, her pupils shaking. Desperation wed at her chest. Instinctively, she scanned the crowd, searching for Quentin—herst lifeline. But he was not there.


    Her stomach lurched. She knew exactly what that meant.


    The Seymour family had many male descendants in the younger generation, while the girls were few and treated like delicate ornaments—cherished but ultimately powerless.


    She had never been as beautiful as Fatima. Never as clever, never as skilled at winning people over. For years, she had lived in Fatima’s shadow, barely acknowledged.


    It was only when Fatima married far away that Judie finally had a chance to step into the spotlight.


    Quentin had promised her a smooth path forward, a well-matched marriage, and had assured her that she would never suffer hardship. But now—now she had ruined everything.


    Your adventure awaits at gα?ησν????s?c〇m


    And if Quentin would not lift a finger to save her, why would he risk angering the Ford family or Nate on her behalf?


    The realization hit like ice pouring into her veins. Her face drained of color, her lips parting soundlessly.


    Judie felt like a marite with its strings abruptly severed—hollow, weightless—as Saul and Matias shoved her head to the ground. Saul’s grip tightened on her shoulder, his fingers digging in like iron mps. His face was devoid of emotion, carved from granite.


    “Apologize to Miss Hond!” His voice was firm, unwavering.


    The sheer disparity in strength between men and women was already stark, and with Saul—broad-shouldered and ruthlessly efficient—there was no room for resistance. He was not the type to exercise restraint, and he certainly wasn’t about to start now.


    For a fleeting moment, Judie clenched her teeth, pride warring with reality. But the weight of the situation crushed her. Finally, she gave in, her voice raw with humiliation.


    “Miss… Miss Hond, I am sorry…”


    “Feeling better now?” Nate’s deep voice broke the tension. He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind Corrine’s ear in a gesture that was both intimate and possessive.


    Corrine inclined her head slightly, satisfaction flickering in her gaze. But she quickly reined it in. This wasn’t just about Judie—this was about the bigger picture. All four major families were present, and too much drama would only fuel the ever-watchful rumor mill, putting the Ford family in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons.


    Judie, disheveled and bruised, no longer carried the arrogance she once unted so freely.


    .


    .


    .