Chapter 198

Tyler Roland narrowed his eyes with an angelic smile. "That's not fair, Isabella. Even good days shouldn't excuse false accusations. If Professor Sophia really bullied Tiffany, I'd be the first to stand against it. But if someone's picking fights intentionally..."

He shrugged, his voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. "Even a teenager like me knows wrongdoers deserve consequences."

His repeated use of "sister" carried cloying affection—classic green tea behavior.

Apparently, manipulative tactics weren't exclusive to women.

Isabella Valentine and Tiffany Roscente turned ashen, their nails digging into their palms.

"Pull up the surveillance footage," Tyler ordered the security guard with steely authority.

As the guard moved to comply, a glacial male voice cut through the tension.

Sophia's pulse spiked.

Ethan Roscente?

What was he doing at a teenager's birthday party?

The crowd parted as Ethan approached, flanked by the Roland patriarch and several New York elites. His tailored navy suit accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist, making him stand out like a panther among peacocks. The garden's blooms seemed to wilt in comparison to his presence.

"Isabella, explain." The middle-aged man beside Ethan spoke first, his gaze briefly skimming Sophia before settling on his daughter.

William Valentine's smile didn't reach his inscrutable eyes.

"Dad!" Isabella brightened instantly, morphing into demure grace. She nodded deferentially to Ethan before clinging to her father's arm. "Just a minor misunderstanding. Miss Lowell insisted Tiffany retrieve a phone from the fountain in this freezing weather..."

Her three-sentence version painted Sophia as the unreasonable aggressor.

William ignored Sophia entirely, beckoning Tiffany forward. "Come here, dear. Tell Uncle what happened."

Tiffany strutted past Sophia, whispering venomously, "So what if I did it on purpose? With Uncle William and Mr. Roscente here, what can you possibly do? That Roland brat?" She scoffed. "Please. Look how his father's groveling."

Center stage, Tiffany launched into an elaborate fabrication.

"That's not what happened!" Tyler jumped in frustration.

"Tyler!" Mr. Roland barked, his forehead glistening with sweat as he forced a smile toward Ethan. "Mr. Roscente, forgive my son's impulsiveness—"

"I'm eighteen!" Tyler's face flushed crimson. "You're all ganging up on Professor Sophia because she has no backing!"

"Enough!" Mr. Roland paled, his voice cracking with panic.