Chapter 4
The sharp crack of the slap silenced the entire restaurant.
Clutching her cheek, Cynthia stared at me in disbelief. Then, with a sudden fury, she lunged at me like a madwoman. “How dare you hit me! You bitch!”
Ruth sprang forward, trying to pull her away—and in an instant, chaos erupted.
Cynthia’s nails raked across my arm, leaving bloody lines.
In her effort to shield me, Ruth was shoved hard; she stumbled back, slamming into the edge of a table.
“Security! Where the hell is security?” Cynthia shrieked. “Throw these two crazy bitches out!”
Without a word, several men in black suits closed in, hands outstretched to grab Ruth and me.
“Don’t you touch my sister-in-law!” Ruth threw her arms wide, shielding me. Her small frame radiated a fierce defiance. “You lay a finger on us, and my brother will make you pay!”
“Your brother?” Cynthia sneered venomously. “Your brother’s in my bed right now!” She barked at the guards, “What are you waiting for? Scratch up their faces!”
This was no longer about removal; it was malicious intent to harm.
The rage inside me finally boiled over.
Pulling Ruth behind me, I grabbed the pitcher of iced lemon water and flung its contents straight into Cynthia’s face.
Cold water drenched her head and face. Her meticulously applied makeup instantly ran, mascara and eyeliner smearing into a pathetic mess.
“Ahhh—!” she shrieked, losing all semblance of control. “Hit them! Beat them to a pulp!”
The security guards’ expressions turned menacing as they advanced step by step.
Around us, diners gasped; others fumbled for their phones, eager to record the scene.
Thinking fast, Ruth ducked behind me. Summoning what little courage she had left, she held up her phone and wailed into the screen, her voice trembling. “Everyone! I’m under attack at my brother’s restaurant! This manager tried to snatch my phone, and she’s ordering security to beat us! Please, call the police!”
She’d actually gone live.
The live chat exploded instantly.
**[Holy shit! Assault in broad daylight?]**
**[Don’t be scared, Ruth! We’ve already called the cops!]**
**[Who the hell is this manager? So full of herself!]**
Far from backing down at the sight of the live stream, Cynthia grew even more unhinged.
Pointing a shaking finger at Ruth’s phone, she screamed at the guards, “Smash that phone too!”
Just as one guard’s hand was about to close around Ruth’s wrist, the restaurant door flew open with force.
A familiar, tall figure strode in, bringing a wave of cold air with him.
It was Mark.
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