Jason was dragged into the VIP room by Cedric's men, kicking and screaming. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Jason alone with the enigmatic ninth young master.
Cedric circled Jason like a predator, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement.
"So, you're Jason Blackwood," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"I've heard about you. The spoiled brat who thinks he can do whatever he wants."
Jason gulped nervously, suddenly realizing the gravity of his situation.
"II'm sorry! I didn't know who you were!" he stammered.
Cedric stopped in front of him, tilting his head to the side.
"And now that you do, what do you think you should do?"
Jason hesitated for a moment before sinking to his knees, bowing his head submissively.
"II beg your forgiveness, Ninth Young Master," he muttered.
Cedric laughed coldly, reaching out to grab Jason by the chin. He forced the other man to look up at him.
"You think a simple apology will suffice? You disrespected me in public."
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against Jason's ear.
"Feed him more alcohol Kason," Cedric said as he licked his lips and crossed his legs.
Kason, Cedric's loyal servant, poured a generous amount of whiskey into a glass and handed it to Jason. The liquid sloshed dangerously close to the rim as Jason's hands shook.
"Drink," Cedric commanded, his grip on Jason's chin tightening.
Jason hesitated for a moment before taking the glass with trembling hands. He downed the whiskey in one gulp, coughing as the liquid burned its way down his throat.
Cedric watched with a cruel smile, enjoying the other man's discomfort. He signaled for Kason to refill the glass, and Jason was forced to drink again and again until he could barely stand upright.
"Send a message to this idiot father tell him Nine Young Master is unhappy," he said as he stood up told his man to throw Jason out of the club. Jason was taken away by his own man back at home and Jason father Jackson was so angry! He truly wanted to beat up his idiot son!
"Go and kneel at the ancestors hall and don't you dare get up!" Jackson shouted. The Ninth Young Master might be seventeen years old but out of all his cousins, siblings, aunts, uncles, and grandparents his the most cruel one out of them all. In the capital of England he had the nickname God of Death or Lucifer of Hell, while his right hand man Kason is nickname name Grim Reaper.
Meanwhile, back at the Blackwater mansion, Guinevere was enjoying a peaceful evening in her room. She had changed into comfortable pajamas and was curled up on her bed with a book, oblivious to the chaos that had unfolded at the club.
Suddenly, she heard a commotion downstairs. Raised voices and the sound of something breaking echoed through the halls. Curiosity piqued, Guinevere set her book aside and slipped out of her room to investigate.
As she descended the staircase, she saw David pacing back and forth in the foyer, his face flushed with anger. Jackson Blackwood stood across from him, his expression equally furious.
"What do you mean he's been thrown out of the club?" David demanded.
"He disrespected the Ninth Young Master," Jackson snapped.
Guinevere did not know what they were talking about nor did she care she just came down the stairs she was hungry. As she went to the living the servants already food out. Grace was eating her food.
"We will go and you a dress tailored Lily mother said that they will be a masquerade ball," Grace said as she looked at this daughter of hers and than thought about the other girl who looked more like her than Guinevere. But she did not try to say anything she told her husband yesterday who also wanted to take the other girl named Josephine and take her DNA test.
"Oh I see," Guinevere said indifferently she did not care about that.
The luxurious tailor shop was bustling with activity as Guinevere, Lily, and Penelope arrived for their fitting. The air was filled with the hum of sewing machines and the rustle of fine fabrics.
Lily's mother, Fiona, greeted them warmly, leading them to a private fitting room adorned with plush velvet curtains and ornate mirrors.
"So, let's see what we have for you ladies," Fiona said, pulling out a rack of stunning gowns in various shades of black and white.
Guinevere browsed through the options, her fingers trailing over the delicate lace and shimmering silk. She selected a sleek black dress with a plunging neckline and a flowing skirt that would hit just above her knees.
"This one," she said, holding it up against herself.
Penelope gasped in admiration.
"That's perfect for you! It's so elegant and sophisticated."
Lily nodded in agreement, pulling out a white gown with intricate beading on the bodice.
"And this one for me? What do you think?"
Guinevere smiled at her friend's enthusiasm.
As the girls tried on their dresses, Guinevere couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She glanced around the fitting room, noticing the way the seamstresses kept stealing glances at her and whispering to each other.
Suddenly, one of the seamstresses approached her, a strange look on her face.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Blackwater," she said hesitantly.
"But I couldn't help but notice... you look so much like someone I used to know."
Guinevere's heart skipped a beat. She had been careful to avoid drawing attention to herself, but it seemed that her past was catching up with her once again.
"And who might that be?" she asked coolly, keeping her expression neutral.
The seamstress hesitated for a moment before continuing.
"It's just...forget it it's impossible anyway I have the right dress for you a beautiful silver white dress!" The seamstress said gently and Guinevere was polite and lovable. The seamstress sighed she truly looks like that person forget it's impossible! Guinevere went back to play her game her two best friend already chose out a dresses for themselves and Guinevere allowed the seamstress will design Guinevere dress. The next store they went into was a jewelry shop. Guinevere likes rare stones so she paid attention.