Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 97

Charlotte's smile faded. She looked Genevieve straight in the eye. "If anyone should apologize, it's him. He's the one who wronged me first."

Genevieve let out a derisive laugh, her face full of contempt. "Oh, spare me. We both know exactly why you got together with my brother. Who are you trying to fool with that innocent act?"

"Charlotte, you chose to be a pathetic doormat for him—nobody forced you. The only crime my brother committed was not loving you. So what? You fall apart because of that? Please, give me a break."

"And if you're thinking of chasing after some other guy, at least have the decency to leave my brother first. Don't go messing around with every loser you meet and then come back, bringing God knows what kind of diseases to him—"

Charlotte's face turned ice-cold. She raised her hand and slapped Genevieve hard across the cheek.

Genevieve's head snapped to the side.

For a moment, she just stood there, stunned. Then, cradling her cheek, she slowly turned back, her voice trembling with disbelief. "You… You hit me?"

No one had ever dared to slap her like that, not since she was a child—not even her grandmother.

"Well, I already did. And why shouldn't I? Am I supposed to sit here and take your abuse?" Charlotte's patience had run out. "Genevieve, say what you want about me, but don't you dare insult my friends. The world doesn't revolve around you. If you want to throw tantrums at the Howard house, that's your business, but out here, you need to watch your mouth."

"Charlotte, you—!"

"And even if I did cheat on your brother, so what? Maybe that's just payback for what he did to me."

Charlotte took Jonathan by the wrist, pushing past Genevieve, intent on leaving with him.

Evander and Tricia were standing by the elevator, having arrived at some point during the confrontation. Judging by the looks on their faces, they'd heard every word.

Charlotte's steps faltered for a second as she met Evander's cool, indifferent gaze. She said nothing.

Genevieve, still clutching her cheek, hurried over to them and shot Charlotte a venomous glare. "Evander, Tricia, finally! You saw what just happened, right? She just slapped me—over some random guy!"

Tricia's eyes glinted with barely disguised satisfaction. She hadn't expected lunch with Genevieve to turn into such a spectacle.

Looping her arm through Evander's, Tricia said gently, "Genevieve, I think you're mistaken about Mr. Pembroke and Dr. Sterling."

Her words died in her throat when she saw the cold, dangerous look in his eyes.

Tricia noticed, too, and gently tugged at his arm. "Evander, don't blame Genevieve. She didn't mean it."

Evander pulled his arm away, clearly having lost any appetite for lunch. Without a word, he turned and walked off.

"Evander!"

"Brother!"

They watched the elevator doors slide shut, both stunned—Genevieve confused, Tricia's glare dark with fury, her hatred almost palpable.

Meanwhile, Charlotte and Jonathan said their goodbyes in the parking garage. She watched him drive away, then turned back to her own car.

As she pulled the door open, a man's hand slammed it shut from behind her. His other arm snaked around her waist, spinning her to face him.