Burn Me Once Burn With Me (Ruby Grayson) novel Chapter 237

By the time Ruby realized what they were after, it was already too late.

Bennett’s license plate had caught their sharp eyes; with just a glance exchanged among them, the crowd closed in.

“Ruby! It’s been ages since the incident—aren’t you going to make a public apology? All you do is cling to the title of Mrs. Veyne, letting Mr. Veyne clean up your mess while you keep your hands clean!”

Their voices rang out, full of anger and accusation. Some hurled ugly words, while a few looked almost gleeful, phones poised to capture the next viral scandal.

But Ruby’s first reaction wasn’t shame or outrage. It was confusion.

Scanning the faces twisted in righteous fury, she recalled the CEO of C Collective’s The Vertex Quarter and his statement from about an hour ago.

Clearly, these people had been lurking outside Veyne & Co. for a while, completely out of the loop.

The crowd surged forward, forming a wall around the car. Bennett shot Ruby a helpless look.

“Ma’am, I’ve called security and the bodyguards. Please just hold on a little longer.”

He peered out at the sea of people, feeling utterly overwhelmed.

Just then, Ruby rolled down her window.

Her calm, striking features came face-to-face with a man mid-tirade. The sight of her silenced him instantly.

Ruby pressed her lips together, her gaze sweeping over the agitated mob.

“If you check online,” she said, her voice clear and steady, “you’ll find the latest statement from the CEO of C Collective’s The Vertex Quarter.”

She didn’t have to raise her voice. There was something in her tone—a quiet authority—that cut straight through the noise.

Some of the mob, caught by her unflinching eyes, shifted uncertainly.

They exchanged glances, until a scoffing voice called from somewhere in the mass, “What kind of statement? Isn’t it just you riding on the coattails of Mr. Veyne? If he wasn’t worried you’d make things worse, he’d never bother getting C Collective to lie for you!”

It was an ordinary voice, anonymous and forgettable.

Ruby turned toward it, but could only make out a vague area in the packed crowd—too many heads, too little space.

She narrowed her eyes, scanning for the source, but found nothing.

The crowd’s briefly subdued mood reignited, tension crackling in the air.

“Wait!”

Someone had apparently checked the news, cutting through the accusations, “The CEO of C Collective’s The Vertex Quarter just made a statement—he said Ruby is a shareholder of C Collective, and the evening gown was personally sent to her!”

The girl repeated the statement word for word, then fell silent, stunned.

Ruby arched an eyebrow.

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