Chapter 279

Ethan's voice was ice-cold as he repeated, "Movie stars? New actresses? Do you think the world revolves around you? Let me make this clear—you won’t be filming for the next three years. No endorsements, either."

This was the lightest punishment Ethan had ever given Ava.

A public figure, a reigning queen who had just won an award, forcing another woman to pick up her shoes in the bathroom?

Such disgraceful behavior had already sealed her fate.

"Mr. Blackwood—" Ava's desperation deepened. "I—I’ll drink. I’ll drink all ninety glasses, okay? Just don’t exile me. Please don’t ban me."

Three years in the shadows, with no endorsements, would be career suicide.

And offending Ethan Blackwood? That meant she’d never step foot in high society again.

Gritting her teeth, Ava begged Ethan to let her pay the price with ninety glasses of wine instead.

Ninety glasses of imported red.

Not as strong as whiskey, but ninety glasses was no joke.

One bottle poured about seven or eight glasses. Ninety meant thirteen bottles.

By the end, Ava was a crumpled, incoherent mess on the floor.

The other two women in the private room—Oliver Grayson’s companion and Sebastian Holloway’s date—couldn’t help but murmur, "Thirteen bottles? She’s completely wasted."

Ava, though barely conscious, heard every word.

Humiliation burned through her.

Julian Montgomery, ever the composed one, dragged Ava out of the room and tossed her into the hallway. He then pulled out his phone and called the club staff. "There’s a drunk guest outside the VIP suite. Arrange a cab for her."

As he turned to leave, Ava weakly grabbed his ankle. "Mr. Montgomery… please… tell me… what did I do to anger Mr. Blackwood?"

Julian looked down at her, unimpressed. "Do you have a personal grudge against Sophia?"

Ava blinked sluggishly. "No…"

"Then why humiliate her? First in the bathroom, then in front of everyone here? What was the point?"

Ava’s lips trembled.

What could she say?

That she considered herself above a mere escort? That she’d clawed her way into this elite circle and wanted to prove her worth, especially in front of Ethan Blackwood?

She’d assumed Sophia was just another disposable plaything.

But she’d been dead wrong.

"Wait… it’s really because of her? She’s just some—"

Julian cut her off with a cold laugh. "Whether she’s an escort or not, she’s Ethan’s woman. And you thought you could disrespect her without consequences?"

Ava’s vision blurred.

The fallen star was unceremoniously dumped into a cab.

Half-conscious, she fumbled for her phone and dialed Sophia Kensington, Daniel Whitmore’s wife.

Sophia answered eagerly. "Ava! How did it go? Did my husband connect with Ethan?"

Ava slurred into the phone, "That witch Sophia Montgomery… she’s a monster!"

Then she passed out.

Sophia stared at her phone, stunned.

She immediately called her cousin, Julian.

Back in the VIP room, Julian’s phone buzzed mid-conversation with Ethan. He glanced at the caller ID, then tossed the phone to Daniel. "Your wife."

Daniel stormed out, hissing into the receiver, "Sophia, what the hell are you doing?"

Sophia shrieked, "You idiot! I set up this perfect opportunity for you to network with Julian and Ethan, and you ruined it by getting involved with that Sophia Montgomery! Haven’t you learned anything?"

Daniel’s grip tightened on the phone. "You meddling fool! I should’ve never married you!"

He hung up and re-entered the room, forcing a smile.

No one acknowledged him.

Not even Julian.

Daniel was now an outsider in his own circle.

Meanwhile, Oliver’s date raised her glass toward Sophia with a polite smile. "To you, Miss Montgomery."

Sophia flushed, unused to such courtesy.

Before she could lift her glass, Ethan intercepted it. "She doesn’t drink. I’ll take this one." He downed the wine in one go.

Oliver’s companion laughed. "Ethan, you’re positively possessive."

Sophia’s cheeks burned hotter.

Ethan signaled a waiter. "Bring her warm milk."

The milk arrived swiftly, soothing her nerves.

As the men discussed market trends—a conversation Sophia couldn’t follow—the others occasionally toasted her.

No one pressured her to drink.

No lewd advances.

It was as if she were Ethan’s legitimate fiancée.

Midway through, while Ethan and Oliver debated investments, Sebastian and Julian turned to Sophia.

"Sophia," Sebastian said, half-teasing, half-accusing, "you’ve got Ethan wrapped around your finger. He ignored me for six years because of you."

Sophia bit her lip.

Julian, ever the businessman, smoothly changed the subject. "Have you considered returning to architecture? I’ve seen your portfolio. Impressive work. I’ve got a mountain villa project coming up—would you lead the design?"

Sophia’s eyes lit up.

Architecture was her passion.

For the first time that night, she forgot her discomfort and leaned forward. "Tell me more."

Life, after all, was about pursuing something meaningful.