Chapter 23
Marcus asked coldly, “Why?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Casper refused to talk to me.”
Marcus’s expression darkened. Lately, Casper had grown increasingly mute, hardly uttering a sentence a day.
“I got it.”
Marcus hung up, stubbed out his cigarette, and rose to leave.
Fletcher called after him, “Is Casper all right?”
“Just refuses to eat. Enjoy yourselves. My treat tonight. I’ll settle the bill later.”
With a heavy heart, Marcus headed for the door. The entire private room fell silent, watching him
He waved them off and quickened his pace.
As soon as he left, the group crowded around Fletcher.
“Fletcher, why’d Marcus leave so soon?”
Fletcher sighed.“Going home to be with Casper.”
These were all close friends, well–aware of Casper’s condition.
- go.
They murmured in sympathy, “Marcus has been both a mom and a dad these years. It’s beyond tough. I wonder where Casper’s mother is.”
“Who’d walk out on a perfect guy like Marcus? That’s insane!”
Fletcher arched a brow.
“Insane? I’d say you’re the daft one for bad–mouthing the woman he’s obsessed with. Watch it, Marcus might drill a hole in your skull and fill it with nonsense till you’re brainless.”
The man who’d just spoken paled, slapping his own cheek.
“That’s for Marcus. I won’t say that again.”
“Good. We all know how much he cares about that woman. Let’s drop it and have fun. Since Marcus is footing the bill, eat and drink your fill.”
The private room buzzed back to life, but Fletcher stayed quiet, smoking alone.
He felt sorry for Marcus, who was a titan in business, yet a shipwreck in love. Heroes and heartbreak, always a cliché.
At least he himself stayed carefree, following his whims.
Meanwhile, Bertha had hailed a cab and left.
The memory of that kiss still burned her cheeks.
She had never thought of kissing someone on her own in her life.
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Back in college, Adalee and Emerie had even dubbed her the poster child for conservatism.
She never thought she’d resort to such an extreme action.
And she’d wasted 100 dollars, a small fortune that could buy her kids three new outfits each.
Lost in thought, Bertha didn’t notice the luxury car swerving in front of the taxi, blocking the road.
Two men in black wrenched open the door, hauling her out onto the sidewalk.
Bertha panicked, struggling and shouting, “Who are you guys? Let me go! Let me go!”
She was dragged to a bridge where a glamorous woman awaited.
Bertha studied her face, a faint sense of familiarity nagging at her.
But the mask and sunglasses made identification impossible:
Before Bertha could speak, the woman lunged forward and slapped her across the face.
‘Bitch!”
Bertha reeled from the blow, stunned.
Mertu
Held fast by bodyguards, she could only shout in anger, “Who are you? Why are you hitting me?”
man! You must have a death wish!” The woman landed two more
Despicable whore! How dare
slaps.
you
seduce my
Bertha’s cheeks stung, fury boiling over.
You’re the whore! Are you insane? Who did I seduce? Speak clearly!”
Brenda grabbed Bertha’s chin in a vice–like grip, nails digging in.
‘Dare to seduce him but not admit it, slut! Listen well, you and Marc don’t share the same world. I’m the only one who matches him!
Don’t you dare to seduce him again, and I’ll kill you. Don’t think a pretty face makes you queen material.”
She turned to the bodyguards, “Ruin her face. I can’t stand the sight of it. Without that pretty face, what else would she use to seduce Marc?”
Bertha froze as one of the men pulled out a dagger, its blade glinting in the dim light.
They were going to disfigure her after beating her up?
How could they be so cruel!
Bertha stomped hard on a guard’s toe. As he yelped in pain, she yanked the pepper spray from her bag and
doused both men.
Jacob had given her this anti–assault spray, and its potency was terrifying.
“Argh!” The guards staggered back, clutching their burning eyes.
Free at last, Bertha grabbed Brenda by the collar and kept slapping her.
Only after several blows did she let go, warning, “I don’t know you or what Marcus.
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“Stay the hell away from me! Try this again, and I’m calling the cops!”
After saying that, she pushed Brenda to the ground and ran away.
She ran very fast, and in a minute, she had run across the street.
Menu
Brenda, tottering in high heels, let out a cry as she twisted her ankle. With stinging cheeks and a throbbing foot, she collapsed, wailing loudly.
“Kill that bitch! If you fail, you’ll be over!”
The guards forgot their own pain at the order, charging after Bertha.
They’d just reached the intersection when a cold male voice cut through the night.
“Stop!”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
