Everyone's eyes turned sharply toward Hilda, filled with contempt and disdain like arrows shot in her direction.
Hilda had lived a pampered life as a wealthy socialite—always flattered, always praised. She had never experienced such public humiliation before. Her face visibly stiffened.
She twisted around, snapping at the housekeeper behind her, her voice shrill and piercing.
"What are you standing there for? Push me—now! Get me away from that lunatic!"
Susan Fields heard it loud and clear.
And she was never the type to let grudges fester overnight.
She shot up from her seat and glared down at Hilda with a scornful fire in her eyes.
"You're the lunatic! A shameless witch! Foxy tramp! Rotten old cow!"
Hilda was cunning in private but cowardly in public. She thrived on manipulation behind the scenes, but face-to-face confrontation wasn't her forte—especially not against someone like Susan, who was fiery, bold, and sharp-tongued.
