Assassination attempt on the Smiths heiress

Max had already returned to his seat, fuming quietly. Olivia had called him a dickhead, animal, fool, and tall for nothing. He wondered why she, well, Emma now suddenly refused to leave the dance floor. “What’s wrong with her?” Emily asked, giving her brother a questioning look. “Brother?” “Hm?” Max replied without looking away from Emma. His cold eyes stayed on her as she stood motionless under the lights. “Did you say something harsh to her?” Emily asked. Max shook his head. “She was actually the one who was harsh to me.” “You should go and help her,” Max’s father suggested. “She doesn’t look sick to me,” Max said flatly, finally averting his gaze from her. “Perhaps she just wants everyone who hasn’t seen her beauty yet to have a clearer look,” he added. “Brother…” Emily sighed. Her brother rarely got angry, but when he did, he wasn’t one to shout. Still, the frown on his face said enough, he truly disliked that woman. “Miss Smith?” the banquet host called again, drawing everyone’s a