Late at night, at the Hayes villa.
When Nora Xavier stepped inside, the blood on her knees had already dried.
The housekeeper had likely been warned by Gideon Hayes in advance; even before the gala ended, she was waiting in the foyer with a first-aid kit.
Clutching the medical box, she gasped at the sight of Nora's pathetic state. "Ma'am, how... how did this happen?"
Nora waved her off, her voice terribly hoarse. "Just give me the kit. Go to bed."
"But Mr. Hayes instructed—"
"I said, give it to me." Nora lifted her head. Her usually gentle face was marred by a swollen cheek, looking harsh under the dim wall sconces.
Startled by the sheer resolve in her eyes, the housekeeper didn't dare say another word, simply setting down the kit and hurrying away.
Nora limped into the bathroom.
As she peeled away the ruined fabric of her gown, the movement tugged at her wounds, making her sharply draw in a breath.
Did it hurt?
It hurt like hell.
Nora offered a self-deprecating smile.
This pain was a gift from the man she had loved for ten years.
Just then, the phone resting on the vanity vibrated. The screen flashed with an incoming call from Mrs. Xavier.
Nora pressed accept and brought the phone to her ear.
"Hello, Mom."
"Nora, I heard you got into a fight with that Hayes girl? Are you alright? Is... is Gideon still angry?"
On the other end of the line, Mrs. Xavier's voice carried a hint of cautious probing.
Nora's lips twitched. Her mother never asked if her face still hurt; she only ever asked about Gideon's mood.
Two hours ago, at the Hayes family gala, Giselle Hayes had gotten hurt. Gideon had blindly accused Nora without a shred of evidence and slapped her.

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