The Unwavering Heart That Broke novel Chapter 42

“Who does she think she is, putting her hands on you?” Lance said, his voice low and serious.

Felice shook her head. “Damaris was just sticking up for Nathalie. I’m fine, really. As long as they’re not mad anymore, I don’t care what happens to me.”

Damaris lost it. “Are you kidding me?” She charged forward, hand raised as if to strike.

Felice let out a startled cry and instinctively ducked behind Lance.

Lance fixed Damaris with a cold glare. “You still won't admit you hit her? Do you want to see what happens if you push me?”

Damaris hesitated, but the anger in her eyes barely faded. “I hit her? Which hand? When did I do that? Who saw it, huh?”

Felice spoke quietly. “I went to see Nathalie this morning… you were upset and hit me.”

Damaris stared at her in disbelief. “That’s complete crap. What are you even talking about?”

Nathalie had seen enough. She reached for Damaris, held her back and shot the others a chilling look. “So now you’re saying she hit you?”

Felice lowered her gaze. “It’s over now. I’m fine. Lance, please don’t make a big deal out of this. Nathalie and I aren’t worth fighting over.”

“Come over here,” Nathalie said, stepping forward and grabbing Felice’s arm. “Say it to my face.”

Lance grabbed Nathalie by the wrist. “I saw the mark on Felice’s face. If it wasn’t you, it had to be her. I’m not making this up.”

Nathalie clenched her jaw. “Let go.”

Lance looked tense. “All she has to do is apologize and this will be over.”

“I said let go!” Nathalie’s voice rang out, sharp and furious. “I was right there this morning. Damaris never touched her. Felice is putting on an act… again.”

“Hold her back,” Lance commanded, and the bodyguards stepped inside and caught Damaris.

“Let her go!” Nathalie yelled, her eyes bright red with rage.

The guards stepped back, releasing Damaris.

Nathalie whipped around and slapped Felice hard across the face. “Since you said Damaris hit you, I guess you can count this one. Otherwise, how exactly is the White family supposed to pay for your made-up tragedy?”

Then she turned to Lance, her voice icy. “There. I hit her. Want an apology? Want to come after me? Want to destroy my family too?”

Her eyes were sharp and cold. Any trace of warmth she’d had for Lance was gone.

Lance’s expression grew even darker. His whole presence felt icy, dangerous. He turned to the bodyguards. “Take her home. Tell the White family to pack up and leave Cabinda. They’re done here.”