"Why are you about to hit a woman?"
Derrick caught Javier's wrist in a firm grip, a sharp smile playing on his lips as he stared him down.
"Mr. Kent, this has nothing to do with you," Javier spat. Although he had lost his cool, he could still sense the lethal coldness in Derrick's eyes. While he wasn't particularly afraid of Quentin, he was terrified of Derrick—a man whose temper was far more volatile than his own.
Amanda, seeing Javier restrained, didn't waste a second. She lunged forward and slapped him squarely across the face.
The loud crack left both men stunned. Before they could even process the first blow, Amanda raised her hand again and delivered a second, even harder slap.
"A bastard like you deserves to be beaten to death!" she hissed. She moved to scratch his face, but Derrick grabbed her by the collar and hauled her back behind him.
Amanda was so consumed by rage that she struggled against Derrick's grip, screaming, "Let me go! I want to kill him!"
Derrick frowned, annoyed. He looked at the girl who usually hid obediently in Quentin's arms, now screaming like a wildcat and demanding blood. Noticing her collar was being pulled askew by his own grip, his brow furrowed deeper.
"Are you done yet?" he barked.
The coldness in his voice made Amanda freeze. She slowly realized who was holding her by the collar like a stray kitten. Swallowing hard, she sheepishly withdrew her hands from Javier's reach.
"Mr. Kent..." she muttered.
Seeing that Amanda had finally calmed down, Derrick turned his attention back to Javier, whose cheeks were already flushing a deep red from the slaps.
"Deputy Manager, the fun ends here, doesn't it?" Derrick said. "If you really want to play, come find me next time, okay?"
Although he wasn't particularly close to Amanda, he couldn't stand by while his friend's wife was being harassed by her ex-lover—even if he did enjoy watching a good drama.
Javier licked a trace of blood from the corner of his lip, realizing Amanda hadn't held back. He smiled coldly and replied, "President Kent is far too talkative. You can leave now."
Derrick chuckled and nodded. "I haven't even started talking yet."
Grabbing Amanda's collar again to lead her away, Derrick thought to himself that he really did have more to say—specifically to Quentin. That was when the real fun would begin.
Derrick dragged Amanda all the way to the VIP lounge on the 30th floor before finally letting her go. He looked at her and teased, "Want to share some secrets?"
Amanda was usually shy around Derrick, but his sarcastic tone stung. "You need to learn how to speak properly!"
Derrick raised an eyebrow. "Why? A moment ago you were afraid of me, and now you're angry?"
The comment hit home, and Amanda pursed her lips, sitting down in silence. Derrick sighed, watching her. Even though she was clearly avoiding his gaze, he couldn't help but notice how familiar she looked in that state. She looked exactly like Winter whenever he teased her.
But why isn't she crying? he wondered. "Hey, don't tell me you're going to cry?"
Just as the words left his mouth, Amanda's shoulders began to tremble. Derrick panicked.
"Don't cry! Do you hear me?"
Damn it, he thought, I just sent someone to get Quentin. If he sees this, he'll think I'm the one bullying his wife. He knew from their days sharing a dorm room that while Quentin appeared calm and elegant, his temper was far more reckless once provoked.
Amanda didn't want to break down, but the weight of her past life—her brother's death and her own tragic end—mixed with Javier's current harassment made the humiliation unbearable.
As her sobs grew louder, Derrick moved to offer another clumsy threat to get her to stop, but the door was suddenly kicked open. Quentin burst into the room like a whirlwind. He rushed to Amanda's side, gently lifting her face.
"Are you okay? Talk to me!"
Seeing the one person she trusted, Amanda's composure shattered completely. She threw her arms around him, clinging to him tightly. "Quentin!"
Today had unearthed the memories she hated most: the injustice of her previous life and the pain that had turned her heart numb. Quentin held her close, whispering reassurances.
"I'm here. It's okay."
He had been in the middle of a meeting when a staff member reported that Derrick said his wife was being bullied. He had abandoned everything to get to her. Now, holding her in his arms, his icy gaze shifted to Derrick.
Derrick, usually carefree, immediately stood up straight and rubbed his nose. "What are you looking at me for?"
"What happened?" Quentin's voice was dangerously deep.
Derrick jumped, offended by the suspicion. "Do you think I bullied her?"
Quentin didn't answer, his silence speaking volumes.
Derrick let out a frustrated laugh. "It was your nephew trying to mess with your wife, okay?"
While he hadn't heard the whole argument, the look in Javier's eyes had told him everything he needed to know.
"Now that you're here, I'm going home," Derrick announced. He headed for the door, but as he left, he could feel a literal chill radiating from Quentin that seemed to freeze the very air in the room.