Chapter 390 You Dare to Threaten Catherine
"After all, Brandon isn't exactly your exclusive acquaintance," Catherine said coolly. "As it happens, I know him too."
Not just know him—this very morning, they'd shared breakfast.
Word was, Felix had fallen gravely ill, and Brandon himself had driven Marcus to the hospital to visit. In all her life, Catherine had never seen anyone try to use Brandon's name as a threat against her.
Lyra clung to Rex's arm, her voice syrupy. "Mr. Vaughan, didn't you say you and Brandon were like brothers? The kind of bond you'd die for?"
Rex couldn't even remember when he'd supposedly said that.
He pulled out a phone encrusted with gaudy rhinestones and dialed Brandon's number.
A polite female voice answered. "Hello, this is Mr. Windsor's business line. May I ask who's calling? Do you have an appointment?"
"This is Rex, a friend of Mr. Windsor!"
"Then please contact Mr. Windsor's private line. This one is for business appointments only."
Heat crept up Rex's cheeks. He muttered under his breath, "Mr. Windsor must be too busy..."
Catherine's voice cut in, calm and sharp. "My father won't be at the office today. Any business contracts can go to Charles."
The secretary immediately recognized her. "Yes, Ms. Catherine Windsor. Mr. Brandon Windsor has purchased a new property for you. Should we send the contract to your home?"
"I'm at the Windsor Group Hotel today. Send it here."
"Understood. And this Mr. Vaughan...?"
Catherine's tone didn't waver. "A guest causing trouble at the hotel. Verbally insulting Windsor Group staff. Attempting to stop me from calling the police."
The secretary's voice sharpened. "What? Are you all right, Ms. Windsor? I'll inform Mr. Brandon Windsor immediately!"
"I'm fine."
The secretary exhaled audibly, then paused. "Wait—Rex? Isn't he the one renting Dylan's suburban villa and refusing to pay rent? Mr. Windsor hasn't had time to deal with it yet."
"Perfect. Let's deal with it now."
A bead of sweat slid down Rex's plump cheek. Panic flickered in his eyes.
He shot Lyra a glare. "Why didn't you tell me she's the Windsor family's daughter?"
Lyra's lips trembled. In her mind, Catherine was barely tolerated in the Windsor family—a girl dragged in from the countryside, hardly someone to be feared.
Faye's gaze on Lyra was complicated. Growing up together, she knew Lyra's bitterness came from a home where resources were poured into her more accomplished sister, leaving her with scraps. Lyra had spent years feeding Faye the same line that the Windsors would never see her as one of their own.
No doubt she'd spun the same story for Rex, painting herself as a socialite to burnish her own image. Now, faced with Catherine—beautiful, radiant, and openly cherished—Lyra's façade was crumbling.
Rex's expression soured as he recalled Lyra's boasts. If she were truly wealthy, she could have covered his debts. That thought alone kept him from cutting her loose.
"Ms. Windsor, my sincerest apologies. I had no idea you were Mr. Brandon Windsor's daughter! He and I are close friends—practically family. That makes me your elder, in a way!"
Catherine paused. She'd met shameless men before, but this was a new level.
Dylan was Marcus's driver, and his suburban villas—built on prime land—rented for over a million dollars a year. Rex couldn't even pay for one, yet strutted around like a tycoon.
"Mr. Vaughan," she said, her voice dripping with mockery, "your brain really is in a league of its own. I'll be reporting today's incident to the police."
"Come on, Catherine—"
"Mr. Vaughan, if you can't learn how to address people properly, at least learn how to speak."
The small blade in her hand caught the light, its edge gleaming, clean and cold. Her eyes were sharper still, glacial and unblinking.
Rex's bravado cracked. "Ms. Windsor, I'm truly sorry. I apologize."
"No need. There are professionals who handle people like you. I'm done wasting my breath."
As her words fell, several police officers stepped into the room and moved in on Lyra and Rex.
A little boy clutching a teddy bear froze, watching his father being led away. The officers glanced at him.
"Ms. Windsor, it's not ideal to take a child to the station. Should we leave him here at the hotel?"
Catherine met the boy's cold, unblinking stare. Something about it stirred her interest, and the corner of her mouth curved.
"This is a hotel, not a daycare. Call his family to collect him."
That look—she knew it well. On the border, she'd seen plenty of children with sweet faces and eyes that hid a simmering hatred.
The officers nodded and took the boy's hand. Just outside the hotel, he turned back, fixing Catherine with a steady, unnerving gaze.
"Do you know what happens to my dad's ex-girlfriends?" he asked.
"Not my concern," she replied flatly.
"You embarrassed my dad. That means you embarrassed me. I'll remember you." His face was expressionless, but the same ruthless edge that marked Rex's features was already there. "You know, lady, minors don't have to pay for killing someone."
The words made those nearby flinch.
Catherine rested her chin on her hand, eyes locked on his. "The price of something isn't yours to decide."
The boy's mask slipped back into place, and he left with the police.
Faye's skin prickled. "Ms. Windsor, that kid is... unsettling. He doesn't seem normal."
"It's fine. Next time, don't hold back. We may be in hospitality, but we have our limits."
Faye knew Catherine was trying to reassure her, and the thought warmed her.
From the hotel entrance came a burst of hearty laughter. An elderly woman with silver hair swept Catherine into a hug, spinning her around.
"Catherine! It's been too long—I've missed you!"
"Ms. Ruth, careful with your health."
"Nonsense. With the medicine you prescribed, I'll live another fifty years!"
Behind her, Oscar snorted. "Another fifty years? You'd be a hundred and twenty. That's not a woman anymore—that's a relic."
"Shut your mouth! I'm talking to Catherine. Show some respect for your elders."
The woman holding Catherine was none other than Natalia Ruth—founding member of the Galactic Aurora Collective's central division, keeper of countless secrets, and the celebrated head of one of the world's most prestigious luxury brands.
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