Benjamin Hawthorne stormed out of the kitchen, his apron cinched tightly around his waist and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. In his hand, he brandished a gleaming cleaver like a seasoned warrior ready for battle.
His sharp gaze locked onto Ethan Blackwood, burning with fury.
“Who raised you to speak like that?” Benjamin’s voice boomed. “You think you can waltz in here and cause a scene? Get out. Now.”
In his youth, Benjamin’s reputation was legendary. He had once brawled with a fellow artist over a ceramics dispute—right in front of the press. Even now, well into his sixties, that same fire blazed within him. And when it came to Isabella Sinclair, his protective instincts roared like an inferno.
After all, he had convinced her to come today, and now this arrogant fool dared to stir trouble under his roof?
“Benjamin, be careful,” Isabella said, rushing to his side as she sensed the storm brewing in his eyes. He wasn’t some reckless youth, and the last thing she wanted was for him to cross a line.
“Don’t worry,” he snapped. “No one humiliates you in my home. You’re too forgiving. You should slap him. And if his parents were here, I’d slap them too!” His temper hadn’t cooled in the slightest.
Sophia Kensington, realizing she was standing before the legendary master potter, took a nervous step back. Benjamin waved the knife pointedly, intensifying her panic.
Desperate to defuse the situation, she fumbled in her bag and pulled out an invitation. “Sir, let’s not escalate this,” she said in her sweetest tone, forcing a tight smile. “We won this pottery exchange spot at auction purely out of admiration for you. But in the heat of the moment, Isabella… well, she misspoke and claimed to be your teacher.”
Sophia’s voice wavered, a mix of meekness and caution. “She was angry—it was disrespectful, but she didn’t mean it.”
Benjamin cut her off sharply. “Isabella made no mistake. She is my teacher.”
He straightened, pride swelling in his voice. “It took me three days and three nights of begging before she finally agreed to teach me her techniques.”
Sophia’s smile faltered. “You—you can’t be serious…”
“Who do you think you are?” Benjamin thundered. “You doubt me? Get out. And mark my words—I’ll be having words with that auction house. Money doesn’t buy class, and clearly, they’ve forgotten that.”
Ethan and Sophia stood frozen, disbelief and humiliation twisting their expressions. Benjamin’s declaration had left them speechless, and Isabella’s composed demeanor only deepened their shame.
“Can’t handle losing?” Isabella’s eyes glinted with amusement as she mocked them, her voice unyielding as stone. “Where’s your honor now?”
Tension crackled in the air, neither side willing to yield.
“Mr. Hawthorne, I respect your talent,” Sophia tried again, raising her voice as more guests gathered at the door. “But that doesn’t mean you can deceive everyone. Ethan knows Isabella better than anyone. This is all just baseless rumors.”
She sighed dramatically. “Harsh as it may sound, that’s the truth.”
Just then, a group of visitors entered the courtyard, arms laden with gifts.
“Who’s causing such a disturbance in Mr. Hawthorne’s home?” The newcomers shook Benjamin’s hand respectfully before casting disdainful glances at Sophia and Ethan, clearly viewing them as unwelcome intruders.
“It’s all because someone wants to tarnish Mr. Hawthorne’s reputation,” Sophia said quickly, relieved at the chance to stir chaos—her specialty. “Mrs. Sinclair claims she’s his teacher.”
Benjamin scoffed. “Exactly right! No argument about it.”
The guests exchanged startled looks, skepticism flashing across their faces as they studied Isabella. Despite her striking presence, the idea of her being Benjamin’s teacher seemed absurd.
Just as one opened his mouth to protest, another quickly tugged his sleeve, silencing him.
