Chapter 78 Do You Just Let Your Wife Be So Arrogant?
Sloane's POV
Jared's gaze didn't linger on Keira's tear-streaked face for even a second.
He ignored Keira's tearful complaints and the hand clutching desperately at his arm. Those deep eyes of his held only me.
He released his arm from around me and cupped my face instead, his fingertips gently brushing the reddened corners of my eyes.
Then his gaze moved down inch by inch, carefully checking my cheeks, my neck, and finally taking my hand and opening my palm.
"Did she scratch you?" he asked, his voice low and tight with a trace of lingering fear.
My nails had turned a bit white from gripping so hard, and there was a faint red mark on the back of my hand where Keira had scratched me while struggling. Other than that, I was completely unharmed.
I shook my head.
The way he completely ignored everyone else and only cared whether I was hurt spoke louder than any explanation or comfort could.
The raging fury in my heart that had flared up when Director Aria was insulted was gradually smoothed over by his focused and tender attention.
Keira stared at this scene in disbelief. She probably never imagined that the victim role she'd carefully performed wouldn't earn her even a glance from Jared.
Jealousy and humiliation twisted her expression even more.
"Jared!" she shrieked, shaking his arm forcefully, trying to pull his attention back to herself. "Didn't you see how she hit me? We... we're engaged! How can you protect this crazy woman right in front of me!"
"Engaged?" Jared finally spared her a glance, his eyes dark and vicious.
He pried off Keira's fingers that were clutching his sleeve, the movement carrying an unyielding finality.
"Keira Winslow," he said each word deliberately, his voice not loud but striking everyone's heart like a heavy hammer, "stop your wishful thinking."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Keira's instantly pale face, delivering his final ultimatum. "I won't divorce Sloane, and I could never be with you—not before, not now, not ever."
These words were even more brutal than the two slaps I'd given her, completely shattering Keira's last shred of dignity and fantasy.
She staggered back a step, the tears in her eyes no longer a weapon to gain sympathy, but pure despair.
Watching her utterly defeated appearance, a sense of vengeful satisfaction rose in my heart.
I stepped forward and, under Keira's almost fire-breathing stare, deliberately moved into Jared's embrace, wrapping my arms around his lean waist and burying my face in his solid chest.
This hug was half seeking comfort, half a show of dominance.
"Bitch!" My provocation completely set Keira off. Like a crazed lioness, she screamed and lunged at me, her raised fingernails gleaming with vicious intent.
Jared instinctively held me tighter, turning to shield me with his back from Keira's attack.
But Keira's hand was caught mid-air by another well-defined hand.
"Enough, Keira."
A cool, steady male voice rang out.
I lifted my head from Jared's embrace and saw that Christian had arrived at some point.
He wore a well-tailored gray suit, his figure upright, his manner refined, but behind those gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes held a shrewdness and coldness that didn't match his appearance.
"Christian?" Seeing who it was, Keira seemed to find her backbone, but felt even more wronged at being stopped. "Let go of me! Didn't you see how they ganged up on me!"
"Christian, even you're taking her side?" Keira stamped her feet in anger, pointing at me with pure venom in her eyes. "You're all protecting this bitch!"
Christian frowned but still softened his voice, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiping the tears from Keira's face, coaxing her softly, "Alright, stop crying. Your makeup's running. I'll take you to fix it."
After calming Keira down, he turned his gaze to me, and behind those lenses, his eyes instantly covered with a layer of icy frost.
"Sloane," he began, his tone polite but distant, carrying a kind of condescending scrutiny. "Keira's young and immature. She spoke impulsively, but as her older sister and Jared's wife, fighting with her in public like this is quite undignified."
He paused, his voice growing colder. "I hope that in the future, you won't provoke her anymore."I was amused by his twisted version of events.
I straightened up from Jared's embrace, met his scrutinizing gaze, and curved my lips into a mocking smile. "Which eye of yours saw me provoking her? She's the one who stuck to me like a piece of gum, running her mouth, and I was just teaching her what 'trouble comes from the mouth' means."
I glanced at Keira still sobbing in his arms and sneered, "If you really cared about her, you'd put a leash on her mouth, so next time she bites someone, it won't be as simple as getting two slaps."
Christian's expression darkened instantly, his glasses unable to hide the sinister coldness in his eyes.
"Jared, are you just going to let your wife be this arrogant and domineering?" He turned his attack toward Jared.
But Jared only lazily lifted his eyelids, pulling me back into his embrace, his posture one of complete indulgence and protection. "My wife is none of your business."
"You—" Christian was left speechless.
Seeing this, Keira wanted to defend Christian, but he grabbed her wrist.
"We're leaving." Christian's expression was extremely ugly. He stopped arguing with us and practically dragged the reluctant Keira out of the restaurant.
The restaurant returned to silence, the surrounding diners tactfully withdrawing their curious gazes.
I leaned against Jared, and after that fierce aggression faded, waves of exhaustion and fear washed over me. The nausea in my stomach surged again, leaving me irritable and unsettled.
I had just... gotten into a fight in public.
Like a complete shrew.
"Do you think... I was scary just now?" I buried my face in his chest, my voice muffled, carrying a trace of unease I hadn't even noticed myself.
I thought he would say "no," or use some other words to comfort me.
Instead, a low chuckle came from above my head.
Jared held me tighter, his chin resting on top of my head, his warm chest transmitting a steady, powerful heartbeat through the fabric.
"No," he said, his voice carrying a strange, almost pleased satisfaction. "I liked how you were just now."
I froze and looked up at him.
He lowered his head, his eyes holding an intense emotion I'd never seen before—a mix of appreciation and burning heat, like a bottomless whirlpool ready to pull me in completely.
"Sloane," he gently brushed my cheek with his fingertips, his gaze focused and serious. "I always thought you were too well-behaved, too quiet, like a canary locked in a cage—beautiful, but lifeless."
"But today I realized you're not a canary," he looked at me, his lips curving into a deep smile that carried a beast-like possessiveness and appreciation. "You're a little leopard with sharp claws and fangs."
He leaned down and pressed a burning kiss on my lips, his voice husky and seductive.
"I love seeing you bare your teeth and claws, Sloane. From now on, when someone provokes you, don't hold back—just show them your claws."
"If the sky falls, I'll hold it up for you."