Chapter 270

Claire recoiled in panic, and some of the steaming soup sloshed over the edge of the bowl, scalding her hand. She let out a sharp gasp of pain, and the bowl slipped from her grip, crashing to the floor.

Mandy's eyes turned instantly cold and razor-sharp, like a pair of drawn blades fixed on the older woman who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

In that moment, one thought burned fiercely in her mind: she had to protect Claire.

To Mandy, Claire was one of the most important people in her life-her sister in all but blood, someone she would defend with her last breath. And now, this brazen, arrogant woman had dared to lay a hand on Claire. There was no way Mandy would allow it.

Fury blazing in her chest, Mandy charged forward without hesitation and slammed a freshly cooked fried egg straight onto the woman's heavily made-up face.

"Ah-!" The woman let out a piercing, guttural scream, the sound so shrill it was like nails scraped across a chalkboard-painfully loud and grating.

The egg was blistering hot, and the skin on her face turned red and swollen in an instant. She flailed desperately, trying to shove Mandy off, her features twisted in agony and rage.

But Mandy didn't back down for a second. She lunged again, grabbing the woman by the hair and ruthlessly kicking her in the knee. With a cry of pain, the woman collapsed to the floor.

Mandy seized the moment, shoving the woman's head down into the spilled soup and shards of broken porcelain.

into the woman's skin, and blood trickled down her face, mixing with the scalding soup.

held her down with unyielding strength, her eyes filled

finally snapped out of his shock. His eyes widened with rage, and he raised his foot, ready to kick

darted in front of Mandy and shouted,

hatred blazing in his eyes, barely

none other

wife had just returned from a vacation abroad the night before. The moment they got home, they learned their beloved son Brian had been thrown in jail by Sean—a

Foster residence, hoping Sean might show mercy

they expected to see

was the reason their daughter, Irene, had ended up in a coma―a wound that would

the Coles had pulled strings behind the scenes,

she blamed for ruining her daughter-her emotions exploded.

back so fiercely. She, an elegant society matron, was now kneeling in disgrace, her face pressed into a filthy mess of

Jarrod Cole, stared daggers

you're off the hook? You hurt my daughter, and you're going to

his hand, aiming a slap

in alarm, desperate to stop

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