Chapter 19: Isn't... don't care?
"James—"
Amelia cried out in alarm, reaching out to grab James's wrist again, trying to stop him. "Don't."
Amelia had always been confident about her influence over James.
Just now at the private room door, she had stopped him once, so naturally she could stop him a second time.
But at this moment, James acted as if he hadn't heard her at all. His hand didn't even pause, continuing to press down hard.
Ernest's hand, which had just been about to hit Mia, was pressed expressionlessly by James onto the broken glass.
He used a lot of force.
The broken glass pierced his palm and drew blood, but it wasn't over yet.
He pressed down harder, until the glass shards went straight through the back of his hand, piercing all the way through.
Ernest's screams echoed through the private room.
Blood gushed from the wound on Ernest's hand, mixing with red wine and spreading across the table.
Dripping down drop by drop.
The scene was extremely visually shocking.
Everyone else present was scared into silence, not daring to even breathe, except for the four people still playing cards.
Louis and the other three just lazily glanced over at James when they heard the screams.
It had just been a long time since they'd seen this side of James.
They hadn't expected he would lose control like this today because of Mia.
Didn't he... not care about her?
The four exchanged knowing looks in the air, then continued their card game.
...
Amelia had been carefully trained since childhood. She was very good at reading people and knew what emotions to use in front of different people.
By using them skillfully, she could gain a lot of benefits.
James was the best example.
She had personally witnessed him being bullied by Uri's followers.
She watched him being isolated, watched him being picked on.
He was like a hedgehog, bristling with spikes, keeping everyone at a distance.
But she knew that the more he was like this, the more he craved warmth.
So she chose the perfect moment, swallowed her disgust, went forward, and offered him warmth.
She succeeded.
Then immediately threw that disgusting blood-stained handkerchief into the trash.
It had just been a whim, wanting to prove she could control people's hearts.
But by becoming the only person who could get close to James, her charm became irresistible to everyone.
Even someone like James, who was prickly with everyone, was completely obedient to her.
From then on, year after year, she had mastered emotional management.
To the point of perfection.
But now, facing James not giving her face for the first time, Amelia felt a bit embarrassed. Her expression froze for quite a while.
After snapping back to reality, Amelia's eyes discreetly scanned the room.
Fortunately, everyone on the sofa had been scared by James's sudden outburst of violence, and no one noticed that her attempt to stop him had been ignored.
Only then did she forgive James in her heart for this behavior that was beyond her control.
...
James let go, his eyes showing no warmth as they fell on Ernest.
Ignoring his hand that was dripping blood, he said expressionlessly to Ernest, who was gasping in pain, "Get lost."
As Ernest looked up in shock, he continued, "From now on, wherever Mia and I are, I don't want to see you again."
This statement directly excluded Ernest from their circle that everyone wanted to squeeze into.
It was even harsher than physically attacking him just now.
This cut off Ernest's future prospects.
This circle was so realistic—anyone James publicly said he didn't want to see, those who wanted to curry favor with him naturally wouldn't want to see Ernest either.
...
Ernest's hand kept bleeding. He was still in shock.
He thought that after James destroyed his hand, it would be over.
How did it turn out like this?
Wasn't she just a woman he didn't care about?
He wanted to beg for mercy, but what little intelligence he had left made him very clear that nothing he said now would help.
He could only look pleadingly at Amelia sitting on the sofa.
Everyone here knew that if James had any weakness, it was definitely Amelia.
James always did whatever she said. As long as she spoke up, James would definitely let him off.
But in his confusion, he overlooked that when James was about to attack him, Amelia had been the first to try to stop him.
But James, knowing full well that Ernest was invited by Amelia, showed no mercy when he struck, giving her absolutely no face.
Ernest didn't notice this point, but the now-calm Amelia was very clear about it in her heart.
She didn't understand.
Couldn't comprehend.
The reason for James's anger!
The only explanation she could find was that even if James didn't care about Mia, she was still his wife after all.
Men all had this flaw—they might not care themselves, but if someone else bullied her, it was disrespecting him.
Other men were like this, let alone someone like James.
Whatever the reason, it absolutely couldn't be that he cared about Mia.
If he really fell for Mia, where would that leave her?
Perfect as she was, Mia wasn't even worthy of being compared to her, let alone the possibility that she might lose to her.
Never possible!
In just a short time, Amelia had already ruled out this possibility in her mind, her brain working rapidly.
Whatever the reason, the fact was that James hadn't given her face just now.
Fortunately, no one had noticed. Now if Ernest spoke up—
She couldn't afford to gamble, and she wouldn't allow herself to be embarrassed.
So she wouldn't give Ernest this chance.
Amelia stood up, walked toward Ernest, and before he could speak, said in a low voice, "You should leave first."
The fact that Amelia had grown up with James's group made many people who wanted to squeeze into this circle trust her.
When she spoke, the already panicked Ernest listened.
Amelia took the opportunity to press the service bell, having someone take Ernest away to get bandaged first.
Under her orderly arrangements, the broken pieces on the table and the blood on the floor were quickly cleaned up.
When Ernest was half-dragged out, James didn't even spare him an extra glance.
He bent down slightly, pulled out a wet wipe from the table, sat back down, and methodically wiped his hands.
After wiping, he casually tossed it into the trash can.
Sitting there, he was once again distant and aloof, his expression calm as if nothing had happened.
With things settled here, the four left the card table and came to sit down on James's side.
Louis poured himself a drink, then poured one for each of them too.
He didn't say anything else, just lightly clinked his glass against the one James was holding, and the other three did the same.
After clinking, they all took a sip. Between good friends, everything was understood without words.
...
In the restroom, Mia had just sorted out a bit of clarity from the chaos when she heard someone come in.
They were gossiping.
She didn't want to eavesdrop, but when she heard that the subject of the gossip was her,
the sensitive Mia couldn't help but prick up her ears to listen.
One voice she had just heard at the private room door, speaking about her in that same disdainful tone, full of contempt: "I really didn't expect that woman to be Mr. Smith's wife. Looking like that, she's nothing compared to Amelia. I have no idea what Mr. Smith was thinking."