Chapter 965
No.1
Oliver flinched instinctively. Her voice brought back memories of her constant taunts, her cruel words about his mother, her sheer disdain. But this time felt different. He felt the steady, reassuring warmth of Isabella's hand in his. He looked up, meeting Amelia's gaze with newfound courage.
"No," he stated clearly. "Get your own mommy to buy you one." He then took an exaggerated, satisfying bite of his giant candy, his eyes never leaving hers.
His defiance only infuriated her more. Amelia planted her hands on her hips. "Do you even know who I am? Do you know who my parents are? I'm a princess! You have so many, you have to give me one!"
"Well, I'm my mommy's prince!" Oliver shot back. "And I won't! Come on, Mommy, let's play!" He pulled Isabella toward an empty machine.
On their way to buy the candy, Oliver had confided in Isabella. He told her how Amelia had mocked him since they could barely walk, how she'd turned other children against him, and the time she'd pushed him into the garden pond.
A cold fire ignited in Isabella's eyes as she stared at the spoiled girl. So you're the one who's been tormenting my son. Your little reign of terror ends today.
Isabella turned away from the pouting girl. She led Oliver to a brightly lit claw machine.
Her fingers moved with practiced precision. The metal claw descended with perfect timing.
It grasped the coveted cat plushie Oliver had been eyeing. With a smooth motion, the prize dropped into the retrieval chute.
No.2
The oversized plush was nearly as tall as Oliver himself. He hugged the soft toy with visible delight.
"Mommy's incredible! You're the best mommy ever!" His joyful exclamation echoed through the arcade.
Amelia watched from a distance, her expression souring. She had wasted countless tokens trying to win that exact toy.
This woman achieved it on her first attempt! Pure luck, nothing more.
Isabetha smiled down at her beaming son. "What else would you like, sweetheart? Point to anything."
Oliver's eyes scanned the glass cases. "That bunny! The fluffy white one with pink ears!"
She tousled his hair affectionately. "Consider it yours."
Amelia rolled her eyes dramatically. Surely this woman couldn't replicate that fluke.
Her jaw dropped when the machine whirred to life again. Another prize tumbled out effortlessly.
No.3
Oliver applauded with unrestrained glee. "You did it again! Thank you, Mommy!"
"Wait here, darling." Isabella settled him onto a nearby velvet bench.
He obediently nodded, giant lollipop in hand. An assortment of won toys surrounded him like a colorful fortress.
Isabetha continued her winning streak. Prize after prize joined the growing collection.
Other children paused their games to watch in awe. Their envious glances focused on Oliver's mountain of plush toys.
Amelia's bottom lip began to tremble. She had nothing to show for her efforts.
Tears welled in her eyes as another toy joined the pile.
A loud, hiccupping sob escaped her. "It's not fair! You have so many!" She glared accusingly at Isabella. "Why won't you share? I want one!"
Isabella regarded her with cool detachment. "Whose child is this? Such poor manners." She turned back to Oliver. "Let's find something else to play, my love."
No.4
Oliver gathered his treasures with difficulty. His happiness radiated from his beaming face.
Amelia's wails intensified into full-blown tantrum. "Meanies! Horrible, nasty people!"
A well-dressed couple approached through the crowd. The man carried himself with understated elegance in his tailored suit.
The woman moved with theatrical grace, her floral dress swaying. This was Sophia Delacroix, scion of a renowned acting dynasty.
Trained in classical theater from childhood, she had become a celebrated prodigy. Her film performances earned critical acclaim and numerous awards.
She secured the Best Actress trophy by twenty. Marriage into the Blackwood family cemented her status among the elite.
Her reputation as devoted wife and mother remained impeccable within high society circles.
Isabella dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around Oliver. Her voice was laced with worry. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Your father and I only stepped away for a minute. Did someone upset you?"
He burst into fresh sobs. "It was a lady and her boy! They looked shabby. They saw my nice clothes and laughed at me! They flaunted all the prizes they won right in my face!"
No.5
Oliver pointed a trembling finger. "Over there! It's them!"
Isabella followed his gaze and saw the retreating figures of Isabella Montgomery and her son. Her brow furrowed in distaste. These common people dared to bully her child?
She looked at her husband, Gregory. "Darling, you must handle this. Our son deserves justice!"
"Don't fret," Gregory assured her calmly. He appeared gentle, but his eyes held a steely resolve. "I'll contact Alexander immediately. I'll ensure he personally escorts them from the premises and adds them to the plaza's permanent ban list."
He moved aside to make the call. Isabella Montgomery walked away with her son, their arms overflowing with stuffed toys. The spectacle drew curious stares from other shoppers.
Remembering her next objective, Isabella stored all the prizes in a locker.
Just then, a stern-faced manager approached her. "Madam, you've been placed on our restricted list. You and the child must leave the premises immediately."
A blacklist? Isabella's eyes narrowed. This was unexpected. Whitmore Plaza didn't arbitrarily ban patrons. Her sharp gaze scanned the area and landed on a couple watching from a distance.
Gregory Blackwood stood holding their daughter, Amelia. His wife, Sophia, stood beside him. Both observed the scene with cold satisfaction. Amelia wore a smug, triumphant smirk that clearly said she had won.
No.6
Isabella let out a soft, derisive laugh. They thought they could have her thrown out? How amusing.
She reached into her purse and produced a matte black card. "Are you absolutely certain you want me to leave?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet.
The manager and nearby security guards froze. Their eyes locked on the card. Their expressions shifted instantly to one of sheer panic.
It was the Obsidian Card. Fewer than ten existed worldwide. Only the most powerful elite could obtain one. Even their employer, Alexander Whitmore, didn't possess this level of access.
All staff underwent rigorous training to recognize this card. Offending its holder was a career-ending—potentially life-altering—mistake.
The manager's head bowed immediately. "Our most profound apologies, Madam. A terrible error has been made. We beg for your forgiveness."
"You make a habit of ejecting customers based on 'errors'?" Isabella's tone was icy. An aura of absolute authority radiated from her, the kind born from immense power.
Her glare swept over them. "Go inform those adults to control their ill-mannered child."
"Yes, Madam. Immediately." The manager scurried away without a second glance. Offending the Blackwoods was preferable to angering an Obsidian Card holder. Rumor claimed only Nathaniel Blackwood himself held one.
No.7
Amelia, Sophia, and Gregory, who had been waiting for the satisfying sight of the pair being humiliatingly removed, watched in confusion as the security team marched toward them instead.
Amelia stamped her foot. "You idiots! What are you doing? Throw them out!"
The manager's voice was firm, devoid of its previous deference. "Our apologies. After a full review, we found the other party violated no plaza rules. They will not be banned."
He continued, his tone formal. "Furthermore, CCTV footage confirms Miss Amelia Blackwood was the instigator of the conflict. We strongly advise Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood to provide better guidance for their daughter. Continued behavior of this nature will damage her reputation."
Three faces flushed a deep, mortified red. How dare a mere employee speak to them with such impudence? Who did he think he was?
The realization hit them. His attitude had been servile moments ago. It only changed after he spoke to that woman. She was behind this.
Who was that common-looking woman to command such fear? To make the manager choose to insult the Blackwoods rather than cross her?
The crowd closed in around Gregory, Sophia, and Amelia.
Whispers spread like wildfire through the onlookers.