Dangerous Love: You Are My One and Only Bride novel Chapter 1886

Raven’s heart skipped a beat. Outwardly, however, she affected indifference. “Oh yeah? And who’s that supposed to be? You?”

Melissa was just about to drop an F-bomb when the door to the elevator suddenly opened. Employees from other floors swarmed in and filled up the space around them.

The two women tacitly decided not to continue their previous exchange. It was only after the two of them walked out of the lift that Melissa broke their feigned truce by pointing in a direction with a scowl. “There’s your canteen. Go there yourself; I’m not gonna waste my time taking you there—it’s a place even a pig would know.”

“Huh. Turns out that a high-class socialite representative like yourself is just as uncouth and jerkish as the rest of us ‘plebs’, too,” Raven riposted acridly. “You think everyone who goes to the canteen for lunch is a pig, huh? Well, I’m gonna skip the canteen and order a takeout instead; at least I wouldn’t be derided as a mere pig by some high and mighty aristocrat. Thanks for leading the way, I guess.”

With that, she spun on her heels and strode away.

In her entire life, Melissa had never once been slighted by anyone like this—never, not even once! Had it not been her mother—who drilled into her head the concept of adhering to sensibilities and avoiding the creation of trouble before their family meeting started today—she would have caught up with Raven and decked the nose off her face.

Melissa was just about so apoplectic that she could tear her hair off her scalp when Aristotle and the rest caught up to her. Still in a rage, she stormed toward the group and yanked Aristotle over to a corner.

“If you even so much as insinuate to that woman of yours that we’re cousins,” she threatened in an undertone that only she and Aristotle could hear, “—I’ll f**king beat you to death!”

The corner of Aristotle’s lips twitched. “What? Why?”

She snarled, baring her teeth. “None of your business! The point is—don’t break a word about our connection to that skank. I! Hate! Her!!!”

Aristotle was too cognizant of her temperament, so he kept quiet. One thing was for sure; no sane person would ever think of crossing a Smith.

Although the Wests were the ones who did most of the heavy-lifting in raising him, his Uncle Alejandro did not shirk his duty in helping him either, right down to personally sending him to France. Hence, Aristotle liked his cousin, who was also a frequent playmate when they were younger, quite a bit. Melissa did not have a bad core—she was just a bit more prideful and haughty than she probably should display, and exhibited a penchant to take a “my way or the highway” approach to things.