Chapter 70
Cordelia assumed that Marcus would hug her and offer the security she desperately needed, but seconds passed, and she felt none of the comfort she had been expecting. Her eyes widened as she saw Marcus actually approaching Giselle and extending his hand!
Cordelia’s heart raced, her blood rushing to her head.
“See? Men are realistic too.” Someone snickered. “Ms. Lawler doesn’t have a good reputation, but she’s a real heiress. How could Cordelia compare to her?”
“Sigh, her own husband’s helping another woman in public… Cordelia’s so pitiful. She treasures the man so much, but now…”
“That’s why you can’t dote on men!”
Cordelia stood frozen, her mind blank as a pang of hurt hit her heart.
“Honey, you—”
“Darling, you nearly injured Ms. Lawler.” Marcus smiled, turning to Giselle. “Are you okay?”
Surprised by the affection, Giselle quickly took Marcus’s hand.
“Of course, I’m fine now with your concern!” Giselle grinned. “Handsome, let’s dance? I could tell you’re good with women once I held your hand…”
“Marcus!” Cordelia bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes.
Marcus remained nonchalant, not pushing Giselle away but holding her hand tighter. Giselle raised a brow, her gaze on Cordelia more brazen now.
“Ms. Lawler, you like my hand a lot?” Marcus’s voice was deep and husky.
Giselle, captivated, responded, “Of course!”
“Even when this hand has killed someone?”
Giselle flinched, her eyes widening in shock and fear.
Marcus’s eyes darkened, and he sneered. “An oblivious woman used to approach me in the past, and I used this hand to choke her to death!”
“You—” Giselle stammered, trying to pull her hand away, but Marcus gripped her wrist tightly. His commanding expression and aggressiveness made her panic.
Marcus smiled coldly. “Ms. Lawler, didn’t you want to dance with me?”
Giselle faltered, the pain in her wrist making her turn pale, her teeth clattering.
Marcus’s smile faded, and his expression became more somber. He looked every bit like a reaper from hell.
When he finally released her wrist, Giselle stumbled backward, hitting the corner of a table.
The atmosphere in the hall grew tense, no one daring to speak louder. Cordelia walked over and adjusted Marcus’s tie and suit.
She looked up, offering a smile.
Giselle’s legs wobbled, and she gripped the table for support. With a glare at Marcus and Cordelia, she gritted her teeth, saying shakily, “W-What’s so good about this? Cordelia, you married a killer! Be careful when you sleep at night. Who knows if he has a knife hidden!”
“Yeah, my husband has a knife kept under his pillow,” Cordelia snorted. “But it’s not for me. It’s for those shameless women who keep throwing themselves at him!”
Marcus smiled, about to stroke Cordelia’s face, but then he remembered that Giselle had held his hand. He called for the server, wiped his hand with a disinfecting towel, and tossed it in the trash.