Page 117 of My Ruthless Husband

His expression softens at my reassurance. “I’m glad to hear that,” he murmurs, his gaze holding mine for a moment longer than necessary.

“Matt!” The brunette whines.

“Seriously, Matt. I’m fine. Go.” I urge him before she comes over and scratches my eyes out.

Reluctantly, he pushes to his feet. But before he leaves, he extends his fist toward me, and I eye it questioningly, unsure of what he is doing. With a gentle nudge, he encourages me to bump my fist against his, and as I do, he twists his hand and opens it, revealing a small, foil-wrapped chocolate. The gesture so simple yet so sweet.

My eyes widen in surprise, a soft gasp escaping my lips. “For me?”

I was expecting something sarcastic, or one of his jokes in response. But all he does is nod. I take it. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible above the music, but I know he hears me.

He smiles softly but then rolls his eyes when the brunette latches onto his arm and starts tugging him away.

“Sometimes I get the feeling Matt’s gunning for my job,” Vicky murmurs.

“What?” I chuckle, turning to her.

“He’s always acting like your personal bodyguard. Today, he’s taken it too far—checking the food quality you were served, making sure you’re comfortable. And his eyes were glued to you the entire time. That’s supposed to be my job!”

I don’t let the last part get to me and instead smirk at Vicky. “Jealous, Vicky?”

“More like worried. This is my job. And you’re my friend. I saw him trying to bribe you with chocolate.” She grumbles, making me laugh.

“You think he can sway me with chocolates?” I quirk an eyebrow, amused.

“Don’t forget the cookies! He even let’s you eat his share!”

“Which I share with you.” I bump my shoulder with hers gently, a smile playing on my lips. “What does that tell you?”

Her eyes soften. “It tells me that you’re my true friend.”

“Exactly. So, is there any reason to be worried now?” I ask, with a grin.

She shakes her head, smiling. Then she says, “I didn’t like the brunette.”

I burst out laughing at that. “One moment, you’re worried about me, and now you’re getting jealous over him?”

Before Vicky could reply, the clatter of falling glasses fills the air, followed by the sensation of cool liquid cascading over me. I gasp. Vicky’s muscles tense, her hand instinctively darting out to dodge the tray that was about to hit me.

I stare down at my soaked clothes, liquid dripping from my face and hair. The sound of Vicky’s voice cuts through the chaos, her tone cold as she scolds the waitress. In the midst of my shock, I hear her talking about suing the establishment and having the waitress fired for purposely spilling the drinks on me.

Through the haze, I catch the brunette’s voice. “Matt, wait!” Followed by Matt’s sharp response. “Stay out of this.”

Then strong arms wrap around me, hauling me up from the mess of spilled drinks. Matt. His grip is firm as he asks me questions.

I shake myself out of the shock and lift my head, intending to reassure him that I’m okay. But as I do, my gaze drifts over his shoulder, landing on the waitress Vicky is still admonishing.

A jolt of recognition shoots through me, sending a shiver down my spine. I blink once and then a couple more time.

Standing in front of Vicky with a defiant face and disheveled waitressing uniform is Melissa.

Melissa Thompson. Daughter of Nadine and William Thompson, my dad’s business partner.

Chapter Thirty

Past

The moment we are inside Damian’s car, his arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me closer until there’s barely any space between us. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, seeking solace in the familiar scent of his cologne, craving the comfort after the emotionally exhausting night.

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