Chapter 12 Provoked

Chapter 12 Provoked
"What do you mean by saying that?"

I had a sinking feeling this was the beginning of something much longer. It was only now that I wished he hadn't stepped in at all.

"Chris—leave it. We can't let this escalate," I whispered, my tone carrying just enough edge to make the point.

"Be quiet. Someone has to remind that woman not to act like the Grace family sits above everyone else," Chris replied, his voice low. "Besides—my mum will never let me hear the end of it if I don't. Tell her I did as I was told."
I clicked my tongue. What kind of excuse was that? A flimsy one, if I'd ever heard one. He clearly just wanted to stir things up with Emma—his history with her, and with her boyfriend, clearly ran deeper than he let on.

"Shall I say it again? The De Luca family is selective—we don't make a habit of getting close to people who are far too in love with a status they did nothing to earn. Is this still the Roman Empire? Have you been watching too many historical dramas? Stop carrying on as though you descended from royalty."

I rubbed my temples, already bracing for the thousands of controversial posts that would flood every timeline tomorrow. But I appreciated what Chris had done. At least I hadn't been standing there alone.

It wasn't flattery, and it wasn't sentiment. Just an acknowledgement that he'd actually followed through. He'd meant what he said about keeping things professional between us.

"De Luca. You shouldn't take what Emma says so seriously. She's a woman—you should respect that."
Chris and I both turned. A few of the other WAGs had drifted closer—they'd clearly been listening the whole time and had apparently decided it was time to step in.

"Me? Respect her? The one who just insulted my girlfriend?" Chris said, jabbing a finger at his own chest.

"Are your brains made of coconut shells? Where exactly did you learn that an insult is something you just tolerate? Did none of you finish school?"

"Chris—we need to stop this here. Letting this go any further won't do your reputation any favours—"

"Oh, shut up! I'm enjoying myself. Arguing with women who have nothing between their ears is surprisingly entertaining."

I stood there, caught off guard. What had started as what looked like pure provocation—the more I watched, the more I realised Chris was genuinely opposed to the way social hierarchy worked in circles like this.

And now that I thought about it, Chris only ever joined in when someone else had started it. And somehow, he always found a way to shut it down as quickly as it had started, whatever his reasons.

Wait. This was just me connecting dots that weren't there—and I knew it. Get a grip, Rachel. Just because he looked like he meant it didn't make it genuine. There could be something else entirely going on behind it.

Why did she keep getting swept up in this. Keep letting herself get taken in by him—when he was still one of the people who made her life the hardest?

"Chris, I wouldn't have thought you were the type to go after a woman like this. Just let it go. It's not worth getting worked up over."

Yeah, and right on cue—another guess star. Shane Grey—Emma Grace's boyfriend, who had taken the podium spot just behind Chris today. They'd been running a cold war all evening. Nothing overt, no open conflict—but the tension between them had a way of seeping through regardless.

"I was defending my girlfriend—that's my right. Same as what you're doing now," Chris retorted, his voice cold, his expression going completely blank for a moment. "I wasn't aware social status was supposed to be funny. In case you forgot."

I turned my head sharply. Girlfriend? Are you joking me, Chris? B-but... Why did my face suddenly feel warm—all the way up to my ears? Don't be an idiot, Rachel. It was just a word. Words didn't mean anything.

"Oh yeah? How sweet. At least you treat her well, not like your father, who—"

BUGG

I lunged forward and grabbed Chris before his fist could connect.

"Chris—don't do that! Don't let him get to you. That's exactly what he wanted."

My whisper might as well have been nothing. Chris was still dead set on going for Shane—not a flicker of hesitation in those hazel eyes.

I couldn't let him do something this impulsive. An F1 rookie's reputation didn't survive things like this—and Chris was still a student on top of it. An assault charge would follow him for years.

Even if Emma and Shane had started it. They'd done it deliberately—that much was obvious.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?! You You don't get to throw punches at an event like this. Who do you think you are?!"

Emma stepped forward, playing the hero for her boyfriend. Banking on the fact that Chris wouldn't touch her—not in public, not with his image on the line. But...

Splash.

"Are you serious right now?! You just like your boyfriend, bastard!"

Emma was livid—her face and clothes drenched from the glass of water that had just found its way onto her. And it hadn't been Chris.

It was me.

"You defend your boyfriend and expect me not to do the same? Learn to watch your mouth if you don't want trouble. You started this. Chris reacted because you provoked him!"

I paused, glancing at Shane who was still holding his bruised cheek. "And your boyfriend deliberately brought up Chris's family—private matters that have no business being aired in public. He should be grateful Chris didn't hit him with a stool."

Everyone had gone very still. The atmosphere was heavy, all eyes on us. I knew what I'd just done was no less reckless than what Chris had almost done—but I had my reasons, and I was going to stand behind them. If Chris was going to get into trouble for defending me, the least I could do was the same for him.