The Unveiling of Secret Queen

Chapter 1151: Chapter 1151: A Poor Teacher Doesn’t Deserve Your Apology, Right?

”Two.”

Casual, with clear enunciation.

Celine Tucker and Caryn Zachmann finally started to grow uneasy. They were a bit unsettled, unsure of what Nathalie Quinlan planned to do.

After all, Nathalie had said she would only count to three.

Human beings—never give them a deadline they can’t see. If there’s no set timeframe, hardly anyone will feel urgency. But the moment you set a timer, the crushing pressure of its approach can drive even a sane person mad.

”I said I would only count to three.” Considering that they were from the Zachmann Family, and out of respect for Audrick Zachmann and Mr. Zachmann, she graciously reminded them: ”You’d better make up your mind quickly. Time waits for no one.”

”I’m your elder, Nathalie Quinlan. Is this the respect you’ve been taught?”

Celine Tucker, who had never endured such humiliation, felt her blood surge to her head. Her face had turned the color of pig liver. Even though she was panicking, she still forced herself to put on a stubborn front for others to see.

Her mouth was harder than stone: ”I refuse to believe it. If I don’t apologize, what can you do to me?”

Nathalie smiled, repeating the same phrase: ”No problem. Feel free to try.”

Celine Tucker: ”...”

If Nathalie weren’t behaving like this, Celine wouldn’t be this intensely anxious. The calmer Nathalie seemed, the clearer it became to Celine that the other woman wasn’t bluffing out of fleeting bravado.

But what could Nathalie actually do?

She remembered the phone Nathalie had shown her earlier—the backend of the Lighten Chaser account—and her heart grew chilly. Yet, she hadn’t reached the point of complete fear.

She had spent so many years in Beijing; they hadn’t been for nothing. Compared to ordinary people, she faced situations with more composure.

Take this particular matter, for instance—she was very clear on the pros and cons!

If Nathalie publicly slapped Caryn on Twitter, no matter what else happened, that dead girl still had to care about Audrick Zachmann’s reputation and feelings.

After all, Audrick had even posted on Twitter to clarify things for her, forcing Caryn to admit fault.

That dead girl cared so much about her father. There’s no way she wouldn’t feel a little concern for Audrick...

Thinking along these lines calmed her down a little more. Her gaze restrained itself: ”I said, I won’t...” She hadn’t even finished saying ”apologize.”

Mr. Zachmann spoke first: ”Celine, apologize.”

”Dad?” Celine Tucker looked at the elderly man sitting in the wheelchair in disbelief, unable to trust her ears.

Mr. Zachmann rarely involved himself in family matters, nor did he often meddle in the lives of the younger generation. Ever since she married into the family, she had been spared the trials of elder-family conflicts that many women face upon marrying into wealthy households, living a far happier existence in comparison.

Mr. Zachmann had always been easy-going and considerate toward the younger generation, publicly giving her, as a daughter-in-law, plenty of face. For twenty years, he had never scolded her.

Even when she occasionally argued with Leonardy Zachmann, the old man often sided with her, asking Leonardy to apologize first.

This time... why would he want her to apologize?

As Celine Tucker looked at the expression in her grandmother’s gaze and those of others watching her, she nearly lost her breath and fainted from anger.

”The words you said yourself—surely you haven’t forgotten them. Nathalie is right; she’s not demanding that an elder apologize to a younger one. She’s asking you to apologize to your older brother. This request is not unreasonable. Since you said it yourself, do it.”

Mr. Zachmann kept his tone calm, his cloudy eyes radiating wisdom from a lifetime of experience.

”You don’t actually think that just because your elder brother hasn’t managed the family for years and is merely a poor teacher that he doesn’t deserve an apology from you, do you?”

Stating it outright like this was undeniably mortifying.