Chapter 10 Violet #2
Sophia, who had been quietly following the conversation from her spot on the couch, spoke up gently, “Mrs. Graves, how about I take a look at it for you? I have experience with antiques. I might be able to tell if there’s a flaw.”
Camila’s face lit up. Her composed, distant elegance softened into a genuine smile.
“Yes! Of course. How could I forget?! You work with antiques daily, don’t you? We have such a talent in our house already.” She gestured gracefully with one hand. “I will show you later. If you like it, you can wear it any time.”
Sophia felt her chest warm at the words, her fingers tightening slightly in her lap. Her heart fluttered as she returned the smile, careful to meet Camila’s gaze. “Alright.”
At that moment, Violet couldn’t hold herself back.
Seeing Camila’s warmth directed at Sophia—when only moments ago the same woman had been icy toward her—twisted anger sharply across Violet’s face. Her hands tightened in her lap, knuckles whitening.
“Oh yes,” Violet chimed in suddenly, her voice bright and airy. She scanned the room with an innocent smile, eyes glinting faintly with calculation. “Sophia has a looooot of hobbies.”
She paused, tilting her head slightly, then continued, smiling as if telling a story. “She likes examining jewelry. She also plays with chemicals to clean the jewelry and stuff like that. I don’t really know what she does when she rubs it on jewelry, but… it looks dangerous.”
She let out a soft giggle.
“She also runs, goes to the gym all the time, and she loves swimming. Back in high school, she even joined the swimming team—though she only stayed for about three months.”
Her smile widened, eyes flicking toward Sophia. “She used to wear these cute little bikinis when she learned to swim.”
Then she tilted her head slightly, her voice softening into something gentle, almost concerned.
“There’s just one thing my cousin isn’t very familiar with,” Violet said lightly. “Nothing serious, of course.”
She let out a quiet sigh, as if genuinely worried, then turned to Camila with an apologetic smile, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
“How can someone with so many hobbies have time to learn cooking, cleaning, or anything related to running a house, to be honest? I hope you don’t mind, Mrs. Graves. ”
Violet continued smoothly, her smile sympathetic.
“My sister has always been into outdoor things. She was never really interested in household duties. You know… her mother died when she was very young, so that probably contributed to her…” She hesitated deliberately, then added gently, “…personality.”
Sophia’s fingers curled slightly in her lap, nails pressing into her palm.
“And now she works as an auctioneer,” Violet continued, her voice gentle—almost thoughtful—yet edged with something sharp beneath.
She smoothed the crease of her dress as she spoke, eyes flicking briefly toward Sophia. “She’s always busy, selling expensive items on stage… sometimes even dealing with rich men in private rooms.”
She let out a soft sigh, as if impressed.
“You know how demanding that job is. Being an auctioneer is practically sales work—constantly persuading people, keeping bidders interested, almost begging them to buy.” She gave a small, sympathetic smile.
“It takes an incredible amount of time and effort.”
Violet tilted her head, expression innocent. “So after all that… how could Sophia possibly have time for anything else?”
Sophia stared at her, anger flashing in her eyes, her jaw tightening.
When Violet finished, her gaze drifted around the room, satisfaction gleaming faintly in her eyes.
Hannah stiffened with every word. Her lips pressed together, unease creeping across her face. She leaned closer to Camila, lowering her voice as she whispered urgently.
“How can someone from our family be involved in high-society auctions?” Hannah murmured, fingers twisting in her lap.
“Haven’t you heard the rumors about auctioneers?
I’ve heard many of them are involved in escorting and…
other kinds of services.” She glanced at Camila nervously. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
Her frown deepened.
“You married Magnus to an auctioneer,” she whispered, incredulous. “We don’t even associate with auctioneers at events, Camila. How could you allow this? Couldn’t you have found someone of our level to marry Magnus?”
Sophia opened her mouth, anger rising, an accusatory glare turning toward Violet—
But before she could speak, Magnus did.
“Are you jealous of my wife’s achievements and hobbies?” he asked calmly.
The room fell silent.
His arm rested lazily along the back of Sophia’s seat, his body angled toward her despite the space between them. One leg was crossed over the other, posture relaxed—almost careless. But his expression had hardened completely.
His gaze locked onto Violet, cold and piercing.
“You seem to remember every detail of my wife’s life so clearly,” he said evenly. “I doubt even she remembers it all herself.”
His eyes didn’t leave Violet’s face.
“Ms. King,” he said coolly, “do you know how to do any of those things?”
Violet froze for just a fraction of a second.
Then she recovered, lowering her lashes and slipping effortlessly into a fragile, delicate expression.
“No, Mr. Graves… how could I?” she said softly. “I could never do such dangerous things. I’m afraid of all that.”
She lifted a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere.
“I can’t even step onto a stage. All those eyes on me—it frightens me. And wearing tiny bikinis in front of strangers…” She shook her head faintly. “That would make me extremely uncomfortable. I don’t like being so exposed.”
Her tone softened further, careful and measured. “After all, I come from a respectable family. What if someone took photos of me and they ended up in the news?” A faint smile touched her lips. “I don’t want to become an object on everyone’s screen.”
Sophia let out a quiet snicker.
She kept her eyes on Violet, watching the excuses spill from her mouth—each one carefully dressed as modesty, yet so obviously hollow that nearly everyone in the room could see through them. Everyone except Violet herself, who still seemed convinced she was performing flawlessly.
Magnus shared the same look as Sophia.
A short, humorless laugh left him. His arm, which had been draped casually along the back of the couch, slid down and around Sophia’s shoulders, pulling her closer until she rested against his side.
Then he looked back at Violet.
“Since you can’t do such dangerous things,” he said calmly, one brow lifting slightly, “what can you do?”
His gaze swept over her slowly, unapologetically insulting.
“I’m sure you must have some kind of achievements in your pocket?” he continued coolly. “Awards, perhaps. Accomplishments that aren’t terrifying enough to paralyze your… delicate limbs.”
A ripple moved through the room.
Camila cleared her throat a little too loudly. Emily stifled a snicker, quickly masking it as a cough. Mia and Alexander turned away, lips pressed tight as they struggled not to burst out laughing.
Sophia bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. Her shoulders shook despite her efforts to stay composed.
Magnus didn’t pause.
“Have you finished your education?” he asked. “Any degrees? Have you accomplished anything notable? Other than being born into a wealthy family?”
Her posture stiffened, color draining from her face as nervousness crept in. She hadn’t expected the questions to come so directly.
Before she could form a response, Emily let out a light laugh, cutting into the tension.
Emily said, her tone encouraging yet laced with sarcasm. “I’m sure Violet has many talents. I’ve heard countless praises about her at parties. She’s earned so many certificates and awards over the years, haven’t you, Violet?”
Violet forced a small smile, shifting in her seat as panic churned violently in her chest.
‘What should I say?’ she thought frantically. ‘Those certificates… I bought them just to show off. If I accept it now, what if they ask me to prove it?’
“Yes,” Violet answered quickly, trying to sound casual. “I do. I also model. And I sing.”
“Modeling?” Magnus’s brow lifted. “Singing?”
He leaned forward slightly, his posture relaxed—but his eyes were sharp.
“Which brand have you modeled for?” he asked. “Any recognizable campaigns? Billboards? Have I seen you anywhere?”
He didn’t give her time to answer.
“And the awards,” he continued smoothly. “What kind were they? Have you performed any songs I might know? A soundtrack? A stage performance?” His gaze never left her face. “Because I don’t recall seeing you anywhere.”
He tilted his head again, voice even, almost conversational.
“Chanel. Dior. Louis Vuitton. Gucci.” His gaze didn’t waver. “None of them require models to parade in tiny bikinis unless the model chooses to. So tell me… have you ever walked a runway, Ms. King?”
Violet’s body went cold.
The color drained from her face, her shoulders locking as if her muscles had seized.
“I—I don’t have time for that,” she stammered, her voice faltering. “I have college. Other… commitments. I am too busy.”
A smug, mocking smile curved across Magnus’s lips.
Across from him, Violet froze.
Her face flushed a violent shade of red, the color spreading from her cheeks to the tips of her ears.
Her fingers curled tightly at her sides, nails biting into her palms as her jaw clenched.
Violet’s cheeks burned with humiliation.
It was obvious to everyone—Magnus hadn’t asked those questions out of curiosity.
He had asked them to insult her.
And he had succeeded.
Yet the shock in the room wasn’t directed at Violet.
It was directed at Magnus.
Everyone stared at him, stunned. No one had expected him to step in so fiercely, so openly for Sophia.
For a wife he had married only weeks ago.