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Marina burst out of the neighboring ladies’ room, her face a mask of icy fury as she locked eyes with Cindy. With
determined strides, she approached and swung her hand, delivering a stinging slap across Cindy’s cheek.
“Ouch!”
Cindy stumbled backward, clutching her face in shock as she stared at Marina.
Marina’s face was ghostly pale with anger. “You shameless hussy! First, you try to seduce Freddy, and now you’re
after Carson? Do you have to snatch away every man I know? What, are you running a junk collection service?”
Carson leaned against the wall, an amused spectator until Marina’s last quip caught his attention. He looked up
sharply, his brow furrowing.
What did she mean by that?
Was he the ‘junk’ in question?
Cindy, tears brimming in her eyes, retorted while still nursing her cheek, “I was merely informing Mr. Foster of some
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇthard truths. Deny it if you can, but haven’t you been chasing after Freddy?”
She turned to Carson, her voice choked with sobs, “Mr. Foster, Marina wants to call off your engagement to go
crawling back to Freddy!”
Marina scoffed, “Who told you I’m calling off the engagement? Freddy and I are history. Should I bother sending you
a wedding invite?”
Carson’s gaze sharpened as he watched Marina closely.
Cindy accused, her voice rising with indignation, “So, you’re about to marry Mr. Foster and yet you can’t get Freddy
out of your mind, running after him day and night. That’s called two-timing, and you’re the real lowlife here!”
Marina snapped back, “Where did you see me chasing Freddy? It’s you who’s trying to lure Carson, and now you
have the nerve to sling mud at me?”
In a fit of rage, Marina lunged forward, grabbing Cindy by the hair and smacked her again. “I haven’t settled the
score with you for your past antics, and now you’re after my fiancé? Do you really think I’m that easy to bully?”
Cindy, shorter and less robust than Marina, couldn’t muster the strength to retaliate. She struggled helplessly, her
cries growing louder.
The commotion drew the attention of staff and customers. A waiter, recognizing Marina, moved to intervene but
was stopped by Carson’s icy glare. “Stay put. Don’t move.”
Knowing Carson, the waiter didn’t dare to proceed and hurried off to fetch the manager instead.
The manager arrived promptly, and upon seeing Carson, approached with trepidation. “Mr. Foster, what seems to
be the trouble?”
After one final kick to Cindy, Marina turned to the manager, her voice sharp, “This has nothing to do with him. I’m
the one who did the hitting!”
Cindy sobbed, clutching her stomach.
Marina was about to speak further when Carson pulled her aside, his face now devoid of its previous warmth. He
addressed the manager sternly, “Your staff here have been insolent, outright insulting my fiancée. Given their
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmappalling manners, don’t they deserve a good thrashing?”
Cindy looked at Carson in astonishment.
Marina, too, seemed taken aback, her wrist stiffening in Carson’s grip.
“It’s our fault. No matter what Cindy did, I apologize on her behalf to you and your fiancée. And please, allow us to
comp your entire bill for today’s visit!” the manager quickly offered his apologies.
Carson turned to Marina, “Feel better now? Done with the hitting?”
Marina shook her head, “Enough. Hitting her only hurts my own hand.”
“Shall I get someone else to do it?” Carson suggested with a wry smile.
Marina, unsure if he was joking, replied softly, “No need. I’ve vented enough.”
“That’s settled then!” Carson nodded to the manager, “Make sure nothing like this happens again, or I’ll be sending
you the bill for my fiancée’s sore hand!”
“Of course, of course!” the manager bobbed his head eagerly.
Without another glance at the still-weeping Cindy, Carson took Marina by the hand and they left the establishment.
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