Chapter 179 Chapter 179
Marcus Drews was a bundle of nerves.
“I'm here to have dinner with a friend, not to watch this circus!” he shouted, looking from Sheila to Nicholas.
Sheila, sensing an opportunity to play the victim, pursed her lips and softened her expression, assuming the role of martyr.
“Marcus, let me go,” she said, her voice breaking. “It really was my fault. I misunderstood Carol's sister. It's... it's only fair that I go up on that stage and apologize in front of everyone. I deserve this humiliation.”
She knew exactly which buttons to push.
Upon hearing the word “humiliation,” Marcus Drews' gaze turned to Caroline like a laser.
“Even if you really were in the wrong, Sheila, wouldn't a personal apology be enough?” Marcus growled, turning to Caroline. “Why the need to do this on stage? This isn't an apology, it's a public execution. It's pure and simple humiliation.”
He took a threatening step toward Caroline.
“I want to know whose sadistic idea this was. Was it yours?”
Sheila shot a quick, tearful glance at Caroline but remained silent, which was a louder confirmation than any scream.
“So, it's you.”
Marcus Drews' gaze hardened with disgust. He made no effort to hide his contempt.
“I knew you weren't the innocent flower you pretend to be.” Marcus spat out the words. “You were cunning enough to trap Nick in a shotgun wedding, and now you're here, poisoning him against us, sabotaging our decades-long friendship.”
Anger rose to Marcus's head. He pointed his finger at Caroline's face.
“What exactly do you want? Money? Power? Caroline, do you really think I don't have the courage to teach you a lesson just because Nick is standing there? Do you think you're untouchable?”
He had just uttered the last syllable when a shadow moved.
CRACK.
The sound of bone against flesh echoed through the quiet restaurant.
Nicholas landed a direct, brutal, and merciless punch to Marcus's face.
The force of the impact was so great that Marcus Drews, a grown, athletic man, was thrown backward, knocking over a chair before falling heavily to the floor.
“Ah!” Sheila screamed in horror, covering her mouth with her hands.
She rushed to help Marcus up. His eye was already swelling violently, turning purple in seconds.
Sheila looked at Nicholas, incredulous and trembling. “Nick! You... you really hit Marcus? How could you do that to your best friend?”
Nicholas's eyes showed no remorse. They were two pools of cold darkness.
Nicholas adjusted his shirt cuff calmly, as if he had just swatted a fly, not knocked out a friend of fifteen years.
“Caroline is my wife,” he said, his voice low but lethal. “If you think about laying a finger on her, or even threatening her, I guarantee you won't be standing to tell the story.”
He directed these words directly at Marcus Drews, who was still on the floor, dizzy.
Marcus brought his hand to his throbbing eye as he staggered to his feet, leaning on Sheila.
He had always been a handsome man—the charming playboy with a touch of arrogance. But at that moment, he looked pathetic. His hair was messy, his face was contorted, and his dignity was shattered.
The aura of “rich and untouchable man” had been destroyed by a single blow.
Nicholas couldn't hold back.
Marcus Drews had disrespected Caroline time and time again. He had tolerated the snide comments in the past, but to physically threaten her in front of him? That was the last straw.
A true friend would never disrespect the woman he loved.
So what if they had been friends for fifteen years?
No one—absolutely no one—had the right to intimidate his precious girl. Not even he dared to hurt her. Who did Marcus think he was?
If Nicholas didn't teach him a lesson now, Marcus would continue to treat her like trash whenever he turned his back.
Nicholas didn't regret it for a second. In fact, his hand was itching to hit him again.
Marcus Drews was in shock. The physical pain was sharp, but the emotional shock was worse.
The four friends—him, Nicholas, Sheila, and another—had grown up together. They were inseparable. They had fought many times in their youth, yes. They had exchanged shoves and punches in training or silly disputes.
But this... this was different.
This time, there was murderous intent in the blow. Nicholas hit him to hurt him. Nicholas hit him as if he were an enemy.
He had beaten his “brother” because of a woman he had known for less than a month.
Marcus pushed Sheila's hand away and looked up, his good eye focused on Nicholas with a mixture of fury and disappointment.
Then he looked at Caroline and smiled. A crooked, cold, sinister smile.
“Nicholas...” Marcus wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. “You did this to your friend... because of her?”
Nicholas stared at him, impassive. “What you did today is not something a friend of mine would do.”
“So that's it?” Marcus asked, his teeth clenched. “Are you saying you don't consider me a friend anymore? Are you going to sever all ties with me because of a woman?”
“That's your choice, not mine.” Nicholas's voice was unperturbed. "Consider this a final warning. If you disrespect my wife again, we won't settle this with a simple punch.
I will destroy you.
Marcus's good eye widened, shocked by the threat. “Don't our fifteen years of friendship mean anything to you?”
“If it weren't for those fifteen years of friendship...” Nicholas took a step forward, his oppressive aura making the air heavy. “Do you think you'd still be breathing right now?”
Silence fell over the group.
“Marcus Drews, be thankful for the past,” Nicholas concluded, cold as winter. “But learn to respect the present. You'd better measure your words with Mrs. Wolf from now on.”
Nicholas' distant, icy expression made it clear to everyone there: the old “Gang of Four” was dead. And Nicholas was not mourning.