Chapter 3 Her Ruthlessness
944 Words
Care?
Indeed, Andrew had no reason to care.
He barely had enough energy to hate her.
But seeing Isabella's indifferent expression and her bleeding hand, Andrew seethed in silence, dialing the bar manager to get a first aid kit.
With everyone gawking, Andrew meticulously treated her wound.
When he finally looked up, his voice was as cold as ever. "Look at you. What makes you think you deserve my concern?"
"Then why did you bother treating my wound?" Isabella retorted stubbornly.
Andrew paused at her words but quickly resumed his detached demeanor.
"You know I've always been a kind soul."
His words cut deep.
"You..." Isabella was so angry that she couldn't find the words.
There was no point in questioning whether Andrew genuinely cared about her.
"Do you think you're special enough for Mr. Andres to care about you?" the blonde sneered in disdain, watching the tension between them with growing irritation.
She then slinked back into Andrew's embrace, her finger tracing circles on his chest.
Isabella was undeniably beautiful, and the blonde wasn't about to let her steal Andrew's attention.
She cooed seductively, "Mr. Andres, it's not worth getting upset over a waitress. If you want, I can help you blow off some steam."
Apparently, she was hinting at something even more intimate.
Andrew stared at Isabella for a long while before straightening up.
He deliberately leaned into her ear, whispering, "Sure, we'll have some fun tonight."
Their intimate exchange stabbed at Isabella's heart once again.
They were no longer together, but she still loved him deeply!
Watching the man she loved flirting with another woman was unbearable.
At this moment, she felt as if her heart had been squeezed tightly.
The courage she had mustered to earn her tip vanished.
She only wished to get far away from this place as soon as possible, away from Andrew and his new fling.
Just as she struggled to find an excuse, she spotted the shattered glass on the floor.
"Excuse me, I need to get a new glass," she said, standing and quickly leaving the room, nearly stumbling in her haste.
As she fled, Andrew pushed the blonde away in disdain, his gaze icy as he watched Isabella's retreat.
*****
Outside the room, Isabella clutched her chest, trying to steady her breathing.
She took a few deep breaths before heading forward.
"Isabella."
Soon, a man's voice came from behind.
She turned to see one of her regulars stumbling towards her, clearly drunk!
"Mr. Bowers."
Isabella quickly composed herself, forcing a professional smile.
Kurt Bowers staggered up to her, pressing her against the wall, his eyes roving over her.
The smell of alcohol on his breath was overwhelming as he leaned in. "Isabella, you promised to serve me tonight. Why didn't you show up?"
Isabella couldn't afford to offend him. Dodging his advances, she smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bowers, I—"
"Save it," Kurt interrupted, raising a hand to silence her.
His gaze was predatory as he reached for her chest, leering, "Since you stood me up, how about you make it up to me tonight?"
Fear shot through Isabella.
Just as his hand was about to touch her, she pushed him away with all her strength.
Kurt was too drunk and instantly stumbled back.
But he soon came back to his senses, glaring at her. "How dare you refuse me?"
Isabella glanced around. The hallway was empty, and there was no colleague around.
She needed to save herself!
Trying to stay calm, she said, "Sir, I'm just a waitress. Please, show some respect."
"I've given you three months of tips. That's not just for pouring drinks!" Kurt snarled, grabbing her hand.
Fresh blood from her wound instantly seeped through the bandage.
Isabella was shocked, shaking her head in fear.
"No, sir, I don't offer those kinds of services."
Kurt couldn't tolerate her refusal and tried to slap her to make her yield.
She closed her eyes in despair, bracing for the impact.
A heavy punch landed, and Kurt fell to the ground.
Isabella opened her eyes to see Andrew, his face dark with rage.
He grabbed Kurt by the collar, repeatedly punching his face.
Kurt quickly went limp, unable to fight back.
But Andrew didn't want to spare him. His eyes reddened as he kept punching Kurt non-stop.
Isabella hesitated, unsure whether to intervene.
It wasn't until Kurt was barely conscious that she snapped out of it and grabbed her phone to call 911.
"Hello? 911? Someone tried to assault me."
Hearing her words, Andrew stopped instantly.
He tossed the severely injured Kurt aside in disdain and stood up with a grim smile on his face.
"Isabella, you really haven't changed at all," he snorted.
Isabella held her phone, confused by his words.
"Thank you... but you should leave before the police arrive." Though she didn't know what he meant, getting him involved wasn't her intention.
Andrew didn't leave. Instead, he scoffed, "You're still the same—acting all weak and helpless but ruthless when it counts."
"Ruthless?" Isabella defended herself, "I just think bad guys should be punished. That's why I called the police."
She couldn't understand why Andrew would criticize her for seeking safety.
"Bad guys? Or just your regulars?" Andrew smiled and then asked, "Do all your regulars get to ask for special services?"
"No! I don't offer special services! That's why I reported the assault," Isabella snapped. "If you don't understand, I could sue you for slander."
Andrew stared at her flushed angry face and didn't say anything else.
Instead, his eyes drifted to her recently bandaged hand, which was bleeding again!
Andrew frowned, instinctively moving closer!
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