Here is the edited chapter:
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"What? But I—" Shirley tried to defend herself, her voice trembling, but Shane raised his hand, cutting her off abruptly.
"Silence." His single word was like a death sentence, his tone deadly. The room fell into a suffocating silence, and everyone could feel the pressure of his presence, like a storm about to break. Sophie, standing near, noticed how the tension mounted, her eyes briefly flicking to Nara, who smiled faintly as if amused by the unfolding chaos.
For a moment, Nara had feared she would be exposed, but Greg had come through for her. *Greg really pulled it off*, she thought to herself, her heart still racing from the earlier tension. Her devious mind flashed back to that trip to China. It had been during her time as the head makeup stylist that she met Greg, a finance officer at Wu's Cosmetics. He was a mixed-race man with whom she had a brief affair. Though he wanted more from her, she had kept it strictly casual, using him for her own needs. When Shirley placed an order for products under her own name, Greg had reached out to Nara, surprised that someone else had taken over her role.
Nara had seen the opportunity instantly. She asked Greg to alter the company records, deleting Shirley's purchase, and then Nara stole the receipts. *And it worked perfectly*, she thought smugly, watching Shirley, who still appeared to be in complete shock.
"You dare harm my wife," Shane suddenly growled, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His barely-contained rage filled the room like an ominous shadow.
Sophie turned, startled by his words. *Wife?* She had never heard him use that term before, and it caught her off guard. Her heart pounded, the significance of the word not lost on her.
"Sir, I swear I didn't use fake products on the madam's face!" Shirley cried out, falling to her knees in a desperate plea. Nara, still slightly dazed from the realization of Sophie's newfound importance as Shane's wife, quickly regained her composure. *It doesn't matter. Married or not, I can always become his mistress,* she thought confidently. *Rich men always have women on the side,* she rationalized, a smug smile creeping across her face before she quickly replaced it with crocodile tears.
"Shirley, just stop lying!" Nara interrupted again, her voice feigning concern. "Beg for forgiveness, and maybe you'll get a lighter punishment. Sir, I'm so sorry for Shirley's actions, and I'm willing to do anything you ask of me." She pressed forward, her posture suggestive as she pushed her chest out, hoping to catch Shane's attention.
But Shane looked at her with nothing but disgust. His eyes, cold and unfeeling, told her she had miscalculated.
"There's no need for that," Sophie cut in sharply, her voice firm as she positioned herself between Nara and Shane. Nara had once again fallen to her knees in front of Shane, shamelessly exposing herself in desperation, but Sophie's presence demanded attention. "We have CCTV footage of everything," Sophie continued, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto Nara's. "The person responsible won't escape punishment."
Nara's confidence wavered, but she quickly tried to mask it. Yet, the flicker of fear didn't go unnoticed by Sophie.
At that moment, the door burst open, and Lucy entered the room, her eyes filled with burning rage. She marched straight to Nara, her hand flying out to deliver a stinging slap across Nara's face, the sound echoing through the room as Nara fell to the floor with a thud.
"You bitch!" Lucy shouted, her voice trembling with fury as she delivered a sharp kick to Nara's side.
"What are you doing?" Shane asked, his tone unamused as Lucy's fiery gaze turned to meet his.
"Brother, this witch is the reason your wife's face is swollen," Lucy said, her voice dripping with venom. "Look at this." She held up her phone, playing a video that left no room for doubt. The footage clearly showed Nara switching the makeup products while Shirley was distracted. Rose stood by the door, keeping watch, while Julie blocked Sophie's view, keeping her occupied.
Shane wasn't surprised, though the confirmation fueled his already simmering rage. He didn't care about the evidence — he had never planned to let any of them off. Hurting Sophie was a crime for which there would be no forgiveness.
"Treyond," Shane called out, his voice filled with lethal intent.
Treyond stepped forward instantly, standing at attention before his master.
"Deal with them. All of them." Shane's voice was final, and the chilling command made Nara's heart race with fear. The color drained from her face, as well as from Rose and Julie's. They immediately fell to their knees, pleading desperately for mercy as burly men stormed into the room, their large, imposing figures giving no hope of escape.
The men grabbed them roughly, dragging them toward the door like discarded trash. Their cries for forgiveness echoed, but they went unheard.
"Sir, what about this one?" one of the men asked, motioning toward Shirley, who stood trembling, tears streaming down her face.
"All of them," Shane said, his voice cold and unyielding.
"No!" Sophie shouted, stepping forward, gripping Shirley's hand tightly. "She's not at fault," Sophie said firmly, her protective stance shielding Shirley. The man hesitated, glancing nervously between Sophie and Shane.
Shane's eyes darkened as they locked onto Sophie. His jaw clenched as he stared her down, his dominance clear. "She failed at her job," he said, his voice low and dangerous, daring her to challenge him further.
"Please, let her go," Sophie pleaded, her eyes soft but unwavering. She looked up at Shane, refusing to back down. There was a sadness in her voice, a recognition of Shirley's struggle, of the weight the girl bore in this harsh world. It was clear Shirley needed this job, no matter how difficult things had been.
Shane's expression remained hard for a long moment before finally, reluctantly, he relented. "Leave her," he commanded, his voice strained.
The man released Shirley immediately, bowing his head and stepping back. Shane cast one last, steely glance at Sophie and then turned, leaving the room without another word.
Once inside his own room, Shane grabbed his phone and made a call, his voice cold and commanding. "Buy the Queen's Stylist Institute."
The man on the other end hesitated, shocked by the sudden order. "Young Master, the Queen's Stylist Institute is a small company, and it's on the brink of bankruptcy. You'd incur heavy losses if you invest—"
"I didn't say invest," Shane cut him off, his voice sharp and impatient. "I said buy it. All of it. And put it under the young madam's name."
The man on the line paused, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Sir, are you certain you want it in the young madam's name?"
"Are you questioning me?" Shane's voice dropped dangerously low, a clear warning.
"No, sir! I'll have it done by tomorrow," the man stammered, scrambling to comply before the line abruptly went dead.
The man stared at his phone in shock. *The young master really does love the young madam,* he thought with a growing smile. *Who would have thought we'd see the day?*
"Young madam, the young master is awaiting your presence," a maid said softly, her eyes wide with awe as Sophie emerged from her room. The maid gasped as she saw Sophie walk out.