?Chapter 1262:


    The words hit Katy and Conrad like a physical blow. They staggered backward, faces nched, struggling to remain upright.


    This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Why had everything turned against them sopletely?


    Weren’t they the victims? Weren’t those two women the ones who should have been banned?


    “This is bullshit!” Conrad roared, his voice echoing through the restaurant. “They’ve gotta be your rtives! You’re abusing your damn authority to protect them! The owner of Morfort Restaurant won’t let you get away with this!”


    Dining at Morfort wasn’t just about the food—it was a symbol of status, a badge of belonging to the city’s elite.


    Now that the Murrays were banned, it was like having their social status ripped away in public. They’d just been kicked out of high society, in and simple.


    The same people who once mored for their favor would now mock them openly, without restraint.


    Torrie fixed him with a cold, unimpressed stare, as if looking straight through a fool.


    He had no clue that the person he’d just insulted held more power than he could even imagine.


    “Security! Get them out of here,” Torriemanded sharply, not wasting another breath.


    “No!” Katy yelled, trying to slip away, but the two security guards had already grabbed her by both arms.


    “Let go! Let me go!” she screamed, iling like a wildcat. She thrashed wildly, kicking and twisting, but the security guards’ grip was unyielding—like being mped in steel.


    If this humiliation spread through social circles, she would be theughingstock of every brunch table.


    Their family’spany was already hanging by a thread, and provoking Morfort Restaurant would only hasten its copse.


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    “This is abuse! I’ll report you! Your boss will have your neck for this!” Conrad shouted, struggling hard but getting nowhere.


    Conrad and Katy screamed all the way as the guards dragged them out and tossed them through Morfort Restaurant’s front doors—silence fell instantly inside.


    Inside, the restaurant fell into a stunned hush. All eyes turned to Christina and Davina, filled with a mix of curiosity and quiet awe.


    Torrie smoothed her zer meticulously, as though unwilling to let even a single crease be seen in front of Christina and Davina. Then she stepped forward, her earlier icy demeanorpletely vanished, reced by a radiant smile and a voice dripping with deference.


    The shift was so abrupt, it left the entire room speechless.


    “You must be Miss Jones,” Torrie said, her tone soft and reverent, as though addressing royalty.


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