?<strong>Chapter 675:</strong>


    She shoved the maid away and put her hands behind her back. “I said I didn’t do it, so I didn’t. Don’t you dare hit me.”


    Noticing the way Elyse was protecting her hands, Thea’s eyes gleamed with a cunning light. “Grandma, look! She’s trying to hide her hands; she’s probably scared that if they get hit, it’ll ruin her ability to y the violin.”


    With a sneer, she added, “Elyse, you’re a part of the family now, so you’d better steer clear of provoking Grandma. She detests the violin.”


    Felicia’s eyes darkened at the mention of the violin, a sore spot that Thea’s words ruthlessly jabbed.


    Her voice dripped with venom as Felicia pointed at Elyse. “Still thinking about ying the violin? Hit her palms so she can never y the violin again!”


    Elyse’s face drained of color at these words, but before she could protest, the maid raised a ruler high and brought it down with savage force.


    Elyse, realizing she couldn’t evade the blow, twisted her body, letting the ruler crash against her back instead.


    The maid did not hold back and struck Elyse with all her might.


    The crack of the ruler splitting echoed through the room, silencing everyone.


    The maid, staring wide-eyed at the broken pieces on the floor, trembled.


    She nced nervously at Thea, but thetter was too busy reveling in Elyse’s punishment to notice.


    ire, her hand covering her mouth, stood frozen in shock. She had never anticipated such brutality; she had thought Felicia would simply demand an apology from Elyse, not resort to violence.


    A pang of guilt gnawed at ire’s conscience.


    Elyse, gritting her teeth, absorbed the blow. At first, the impact was just a dull thud, but soon the spot red with searing pain, as if her skin was being ripped apart.


    Despite the agony, she steadied herself and remained silent, refusing to give these people the satisfaction of a pained cry. Once she regained herposure, her gaze turned icy as she stared down ire.


    ire quickly averted her gaze. Why was Elyse looking at her like that? It wasn’t like she was the one who hit her!


    Elyse sneered and asked with chilling indifference, “Now that I’ve taken the hit, can we settle the matter between us?”


    ire, her voice trembling with uncertainty, asked falteringly, “What’re you talking about?”


    Elyse’s lips curved into a smirk. “You imed I bullied you. Did I physically harm you? p you, maybe? Or perhaps, I robbed you?”


    ire feigned toughness and crossed her arms over her chest, retorting, “None of the above—but you did insult me.”


    “And what, pray tell, did I say to insult you?”


    ire’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She stood there, stunned and speechless.


    Sensing something was off, ire’s mother stepped forward, her expression darkening. She hade to the Bensons’ estate seeking justice, spurred on by ire’s usations of Elyse’s bullying.


    Cambape was a city where a few elite families wielded fragmented power, and though the Lipson family was not the most elite, they still held a respectable reputation.


    And to let a Benson bully their daughter without consequence was uneptable.


    But now, it seemed things were not as they seemed.


    .


    .


    .