"Since you know the craft of a cobbler so well, I trust you to clean my dearest's shoes to perfection. It shall serve as a reminder of the importance of humility and respect. Shall we begin?" Ivan's voice remained unwavering, his cold gaze fixed on the trembling gossipers who think they can spew rubbish at his loving wife and walk away freely– under his watch.
Samantha simply stared, surprisingly transfixed as she watched Ivan deal with the women on her behalf. Her purpose was mainly to kick them out of her Boudoir, as she would not entertain those who wear a mask and pretend to be happy for her when in reality, they are not. Frankly speaking, she was enjoying this a lot more than she thought she would, having them realize their mistake in front of everyone like this– but when Lucy suddenly brought a chair from the Boudoir so she could sit, she became hesitantly diffident.
