Chapter 3 CHA

Clara's POV

The sound frightened the people around us, and some of them turned to find security guards running towards us. Everyone considered me a waitress because of my casual clothing. Such elitist guards they were; they did not even care to ask what had happened and, without a second thought, came and pushed me out of the hall.

Hannah had gotten hot sauce in her eyes and was therefore rushed to the hospital. Imogen's designer gown was covered in sauce, and there was a burning palm print on her cheek. Edward also rushed in after hearing the news. He looked a bit surprised to see Imogen in such a condition. "What's going on?" he asked.

In fact, Imogen was probably afraid Edward would find out I was back but now it was too late to hide it from him. She burst into tears and said, "Edward, I met Miss Whitmore. She was a waitress here. I don't know what she was doing, but she spilled juice on us on purpose. Hannah couldn't handle it and tried to yell at her, but she freaked out and poured the food on Hannah. Then she slapped me."

Edward looked stunned. He looked around, but didn't see me. Imogen cried some more crocodile tears and continued, "Now, I'm just a little bit dirty and got slapped by her, but Hannah got spicy sauce in her eyes! Well, technically, Miss Whitmore was attempting to throw it at me, but Hannah caught the blast!"

He looked at her crying face, his own face impassive. He patted Imogen as she wiped away her tears and asked in a cold voice, "Where is she?"

"She was pulled away by the security guards," said Imogen.

"Let us go and see," said Edward as he escorted Imogen out of the hall.

I was taken to a room adjacent to the hall by the security guards. One of the guards was calling the police while some of the guards were scolding me. I had calmed down when I was brought here. I was sitting on the sofa with my head down, my whole body soaked in wine.

I knew I should have controlled my temper, but I couldn't can't. Not when they were teasing me. Now that this had happened, Oliver would not forgive me for certain. That playboy had a terrible temper, especially where I was involved.

I was only working for Oliver as his assistant since Rupert Sinclair had compelled him to give me the job. Since Oliver had been forced to take me, he'd never been fond of me and always made things difficult. Now that I had caused such a commotion, he was surely going to fire me.

Just as I was getting nervous, the door was flung open and the room was filled with a chill, familiar presence. I looked up, and my eyes met an intense gaze.

Three years before, Edward had coldly requested his lawyer, Mr. Fletcher, to bring him a divorce paper, and he made me sign it. I left this dreary place immediately afterward.

I never thought I would have to see Edward again in these past three years. I had planned to take a diversion in case we met again. But there he was, on my very first day in Bristol.

I was in such a demeaning state, while he was standing tall, his presence exuding an aura of power. He looked down at me, one hand resting on Imogen's waist. Had he come to pass judgment on me? I wondered.

Having my emotions under control, I detachedly drew back my eyes.

We were strangers now. If he were just a stranger, what was there for me to mourn?

Seeing that I had frostily withdrawn my gaze, Edward's eyes narrowed. He entered the room with Imogen and said, "Apologize." His voice was cold enough to send shivers down my spine.

I compressed my lips and said nothing. He wants me to apologize to his mistress? When I have done nothing wrong? In his dreams.

As I remained silent, Edward's face clouded. "Clara Whitmore, didn't you hear me? I want you to apologize."

"Apologize? Why? Mr. Harrington, do you think you're a king here?" I derisively laughed.

"It doesn't matter whether I'm a king or not. What does is the fact that you knowingly hurt people. Hannah has been rushed to the hospital. You know what the consequences are." he replied.

His motive to threaten me was evident. I knew he was doing all this not for Hannah but for Imogen. How could I possibly apologize? I weakly smiled and told him, "Mr. Harrington, I know you are a very influential man. Do as you please. I'll wait. For the apology, wait for the next life."

Noticing my disinterested face and my icy tone, Edward's heart felt very uncomfortable, as if something was stuck in it.

"Clara Whitmore, if you're such a stubborn and foolish girl, then don't blame me!" Edward gazed at me icily and turned to face the security guard, asking, "Have you called the police?"

"Yes, sir!" answered the security guard respectfully.

"Then let the police handle this in a fair way! I hope you can be so persistent when you reach the police station!"

Looking at his indifferent face and hearing his ruthless words, I cast my eyes down to hide the grief in them.

Edward Harrington. What was his heart made of? Five years of love and three years of marriage. I did nothing to him that I should be sorry for. Why was he so cruel to me?

Three years ago, he had divorced me without leaving anything to me. Now, after meeting for the first time in three years, he wanted to send me to the police station regardless of what actually happened.

Men were the most ruthless creatures on earth, and Edward Harrington was the best of them all.

Was I blind? How could I have fallen for such a cold-blooded and cruel man?

I declined to apologize and was later taken to the police station by the police.

I was questioned by the police in accordance with the protocol. Halfway through the questioning, my phone rang. It was Oliver. I answered and heard his frustrated and annoyed voice. "Clara Whitmore, where on earth did you go? Didn't I tell you to wait for me in the lounge?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Whitfield!" I continued to apologize, "Something happened and I'm at the police station now."

"What? The police station? Why on earth would you go to the police station?"

"I. this." I wasn't sure how to put it. I couldn't exactly say that I met the half-sister and mistress who ruined my marriage, I lost my mind, got into a fight, and was taken to the police station by my ex-husband, could I?

Noticing my hesitation, Oliver was frustrated. "If you would rather stay in the police station, then stay. I don't want you anymore. I'll call and tell Rupert Sinclair right now!"

There was a dial tone; Oliver had hung up on me. Had I brought upon myself the disaster of jail and termination? My heart sank.

Seeing my pale face, the police took pity on me and gently reminded me, "Young lady, how did you end up offending these individuals? One is Mr. Black's cherished daughter, and the other is Edward Harrington, a financial tycoon. Why on earth did you provoke them? Be pragmatic, apologize and be done with it. By the way, I have Mr. Harrington's phone number. Why don't you call him and say something nice?"

I smiled weakly and said, "Thank you, sir. Now I've lost my job and have nowhere to go. At least I'll get to relax while being incarcerated here, still having something to eat and somewhere to live. So, don't need to apologize to them."

As I would not apologize, the police left reluctantly. I was aware that Edward would not forgive me. As I was here now, I simply had to sit back to wait and see what he could do. Was Edward more powerful than the law? I did not think so.

As I was thinking, I heard heavy footsteps at the door. Soon, the door was thrust open, and Oliver was in the doorway, scowling at me. "Clara Whitmore, how dare you!"

"Mr. Whitfield." I replied in a low voice.

"I've never met an assistant like you, who couldn't help with anything and only knew how to cause trouble!" Oliver scolded me in a huff. But when he caught sight of my deplorable state, he shut his mouth.

"What's wrong? How the f*ck did you get like this?" Oliver exclaimed.

"Nothing. I was just being poured all over with wine by someone."

"Who did that?" Oliver asked, clenching his teeth.

"Somebody I didn't know!" I lied.