Chapter 87
Karine walked through the company corridor, her personal belongings clutched tightly in her hands. The eyes of her colleagues followed her every move, filled with disdain, contempt, and mockery. Some almost seemed to cheer at her downfall, and not a single person showed any pity. As she descended the stairs, she unexpectedly bumped into Cordelia. The two locked eyes for a brief moment, and memories from a week ago flooded Cordelia’s mind—the police taking her away as she walked down the same stairwell, encountering Karine in nearly the same position. Though only a week had passed, it felt like a lifetime since their roles had shifted so drastically.
Cordelia nodded awkwardly, wanting to smile at Karine, but the words didn’t come. Just as she was about to walk past, she caught sight of Karine’s furious glare, causing her heart to skip a beat. Yet, there was something different in Karine’s gaze this time—along with the hatred, Cordelia could see a trace of fear.
Fear? Cordelia thought, puzzled. She couldn’t understand why Karine would feel afraid of her. As Cordelia considered the possibility of looking at Karine again, the other woman had already disappeared around the corner, her belongings in tow.
…
In a private room of a bar, a group of men sat around, with only half a bottle of Romanee Conti left. Josiah, the host, was enjoying himself thoroughly, while the others seemed uncomfortable in the setting, especially Marcus. Josiah, however, was in high spirits, not minding the surroundings.
“Z, Freddy, drink as much as you can!” Josiah called out, grinning as he watched a pole dance performance through the window. “There’s plenty of wine, so help yourselves! Robert, come on, don’t be shy!”
Robert, still somewhat uncomfortable, smiled at Josiah before turning to Marcus. Josiah, not noticing Robert’s discomfort, slapped Marcus on the back. “Z, don’t keep that long face! Your wife’s issue is resolved, right? Look at these women—they’re all beauties! You’re married, but it doesn’t hurt to feast your eyes a little while you’re here.”
Marcus shot Josiah a sharp glare, his expression turning colder. Josiah laughed awkwardly, realizing his mistake.
“It’s getting late,” Marcus said as he set down his glass. “I should head home now.”
“What? It’s only—” Josiah began, but was immediately cut off by Fredric and Robert, who shot him warning looks, signaling him to stop talking.
It was clear that Marcus, despite being in the midst of this gathering, was still the “Cinderella” of the group. He had to leave before it got too late, much like the fairytale character who had to return home before midnight—except Marcus was heading home well before that.
“I have a match the day after tomorrow,” Marcus added as he paused at the door, turning to look at the group. “Make sure to come support me.”
Fredric’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Are you really going?”
“I’ve already told her. If I don’t go, I might expose myself,” Marcus replied, his voice steady.
“But it’s been so many years since you had a match!” Fredric said in disbelief.
Marcus’s gaze hardened. In the past, boxing was a mandatory skill for the heir of the Hamerton family. Marcus had been exceptional at it, winning gold belts in international tournaments and having no fear of facing world champions. Though a plane crash had sidelined him for a long period, he had been in recovery, working hard to regain his fitness. The process was long and difficult, and his old injuries could resurface at any moment.
“It’s fine,” Marcus said with a slight smile. “It’s true I haven’t been in action for years, but I’ve been training this whole time. I can handle one match.”
Fredric raised an eyebrow. “Is your wife coming too?”
“I don’t think she should,” Fredric continued with a teasing grin. “There’ll be a lot of blood. I’m afraid she might not be able to handle it.”
Marcus cocked his head and gave Fredric a curious look. “Well, you’re wrong.”