CHAPTER 110: – APOLOGIZE TO HER –

Amadeo used the same tactic when she’d finally mustered up the courage to go against him for once.

Stopping her mother’s treatment.

He must have expected her to come crawling back, begging. He thought it’d work again. But someone interfered. Nikolas.

Her breath hitched.

He saved her from falling into a pit she’d dragged herself out of and he didn’t even realize so.

She quickly wiped off the wetness that almost slipped out of her eyes. Composing herself, she adjusted the blonde wig she had on, made sure the mole she drew on was still there before stepping into the bar.

The last thing she wanted was anyone recognizing her. Or the paparazzi being all over in her face.

The air smelled faintly of alcohol and something fried. Laughters rose and fell around her and she avoided people bumping into her as she walked over to the counter.

Pulling her coat tighter, she slipped into a barstool and lifted her gaze. The bartender smiled at her.

"What would you like to have?" the bartender asked. He looked to be at most in his thirties.

"Uh...whatever you’d consider your lightest drinks," she said. While she’d come here to do something she wasn’t familiar with, she had no intention of getting drunk.

The bartender turned his back against her, before spinning around again a few minutes after to begin making her drink before her eyes.

She watched quietly and with a bit of interest.

When he was done, he slid the drink over to her. She took a sip, her brows lifting a bit. It didn’t taste bad. Quite fruity, but it still had that harshness of alcohol in it.

"What do you think?" the bartender asked.

She looked at him, saying, "It’s not bad."

The bartender bowed with a proud expression on his face before moving onto another customer.

Swirling the ice cubes inside the drink, her gaze dazed off into a distant, lashes flickering. She’d wanted to visit her mother today, but she didn’t even think she had the face.

How would she react if she knew everything had been her fault? If she knew she’d been in pain because of her own child?

Viviana lowered her gaze, hiding her face that had twisted as she tried hard not to break down. She’d been crying a lot these days. So many things were going so wrong at the same thing. She felt like she couldn’t hold control of anything, not even herself.

"Hi," an unfamiliar male voice vibrated next to her.

Sniffling, she lifted her head, glancing at whoever it was. Roughly cut hair with a set of blue eyes. He looked rugged and Viviana was more than sure she’d never seen him before.

She didn’t come here to interact with anyone, so she ignored him, facing her drink.

The man’s expression fell. "Are you mute?"

No response from her.

"Hey, I’m talking to you." His tone seemed to have grown harsher.

Viviana herself was already starting to grow annoyed. Was he so stupid, he couldn’t even get the memo?

She looked at him. "Please, leave me alone."

"Leave you alone?" His face twisted. "You’re acting like I’m bothering you. I just want to have a little talk. Nothing that big of a deal. You’re—"

Viviana kept her payment under the glass cup and hopped off the chair. This place wasn’t her type of thing just as she’d thought.

She proceeded to leave, however, the man stepped in front of her, blocking her. He spat, "You’re very rude, you know that?"

"Rude?" Viviana cocked a brow. "I asked you to leave me alone."

"And I just wanted to talk to you?" he countered.

Her gaze darkened.

He raised a brow at her in response, his gaze falling subconsciously to the ring on her finger. "Oh! I see, you’re married. Is that why you’re playing so hard to get?"

Viviana ignored him and tried to walk past him again, but he wouldn’t bulge, blocking her path again.

"Since you’re not here with your husband, I’m assuming, you two aren’t deep of a thing, huh?"

His lips stretched, teeth exposed flirtatiously.

"Let me guess, you came here to vent? You touch starved? I’m all down for it, honestly. I can show you a good time and I assure you, you’d be coming—"

She kicked him, so hard in the groin, he dropped to his knees. Following that, she punched him hard into the face, biting, "Don’t you ever dare speak to me like that again. Bastard."

Storming past him, she was again blocked, but this time, by another man who seemed to be a friend of the one on the floor clutching his groin.

"That’s my friend you just punched, pretty. Not very nice, ya?"

"Step out of my way," Viviana demanded.

The one on the floor, grunted to his friend. "Make sure that bitch doesn’t go anywhere, Rafael. I’m going to—"

"You’re going to what?"

His eyes fell on the man who’d walked up behind Rafael, much taller than his five foot nine height. He couldn’t speak.

Viviana blinked up. "Nikolas... What are you doing here?"

Nikolas didn’t answer her. Instead he leaned in and glanced over to Rafael, whispering to him. "This is my wife. What were you going to do again?"

Rafael was frozen. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he could feel chills crawling all over his skin. He was frightened, like he’d never been before, and Nikolas hadn’t even touched him.

Nikolas glanced at the one on the floor. "You asked him to make sure she goes nowhere. What were you going to do?"

None of them could answer him. And that only made him craze. He was mad.

"I asked you a fucking question!" he growled, grabbing him by the back of his neck and throwing him against the counter like he weighed nothing. He stormed toward him before he could gather himself and punched him so hard in the stomach, he vomited out blood.

But Nikolas didn’t stop there.

He swung across his jaw, breaking the bone, before sending him crashing into the floor. Before Rafael could try getting up, he stomped a leg on his head, thrashing his face into the floor. "Apologize to her," he demanded.