Chapter 3

"Captain Carter," I called, my voice ringing with authority.

Captain Forrest Carter, head of my security, son of my father' s loyal man, stepped forward instantly. His team moved with him.

"Restrain Mr. Sinclair," I ordered.

Beau sputtered, "Scarlett, you can't-"

Carter' s men were efficient. Beau was held, struggling uselessly.

"Babs Jenkins," I continued, turning my gaze back to her. She flinched. "Your act of wearing this gown is not just theft. It's a profound insult to the Ashley legacy. In our world, that is tantamount to treason."

I let the word hang in the air.

"There will be severe repercussions."

Babs started to cry, real tears this time. "I didn't mean... I just admired it so much..."

"Liar," I said flatly. "You meant to usurp. You meant to humiliate."

Suddenly, a furious voice cut through. "What in God's name is going on here?"

Tom Jr., my older brother, pushed through the crowd, his face flushed with anger.

He saw Beau restrained, Babs crying in my stolen gown, and me, standing defiant.

"Scarlett! You're causing a scandal! How dare you ruin your own debutante ball!"

He stormed towards me. "You will apologize to Babs and Beau this instant!"

"I will do no such thing, Tom," I said calmly.

His rage boiled over. He shoved me, hard.

I stumbled back, a sharp pain in my shoulder as I hit a decorative pillar.

It wasn't a serious injury, but the public insult was enormous.

The heir to the Ashley dynasty, physically assaulting his sister.

A new wave of shocked murmurs went through the room.

"Enough!"

The voice boomed, cutting through everything.

Governor Thomas Ashley Sr. My father.

He strode into the ballroom, his eyes blazing. He took in the scene in an instant: Tom Jr. looming over me, Babs in my gown, Beau held by security.

His gaze, when it fell on Tom Jr., was like ice.

"Thomas Junior," Father said, his voice dangerously low. "You dare lay a hand on your sister? In public? You disgrace yourself and this family."

Tom Jr. wilted. "Father, she was-"

"Silence!" Father roared. He turned to me, his expression softening with concern. "Are you alright, my dear?"

"I'm fine, Father," I said, though my shoulder throbbed.

Father looked at Babs, his eyes filled with contempt. "You. Take off that gown. Now."

Babs trembled.

"And you, Beauregard Sinclair," Father said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Your behavior is appalling. You will be escorted from this property and will attend a thorough re-education in Southern decorum. You are banned from all Ashley properties and events, indefinitely."

Beau looked like he'd been slapped again.

Father then faced Tom Jr. again. "As for you, Thomas. You are stripped of your responsibilities for the upcoming trade delegation. You will also move out of the Mansion and into the city apartment. Perhaps some distance will grant you perspective on your duties and your manners."

Tom Jr.' s face went ashen.

Finally, Father addressed Babs, who was now sobbing openly. "Miss Jenkins. You will be confined to your rooms. All Ashley financial support is hereby terminated. You have abused our hospitality and repaid our kindness with treachery."

He looked around the silent ballroom. "Let this be a lesson. Disrespect to the Ashley family and its traditions will not be tolerated."

The power in the room had shifted entirely. My father was in control. And I had my opening.