Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom novel Chapter 111

Claire's unyielding demeanor left Vincent feeling like he was punching a cloud—his anger and accusations were effortlessly absorbed by her calm exterior, leaving him frustrated and helpless. The more he tried to express his outrage, the more it seemed to dissipate in the face of her indifference.

Vanessa, witnessing the confrontation, immediately teared up. "Vincent, are you okay?" she asked, her voice quivering with concern.

Without waiting for his response, she turned her attention to Claire, her voice escalating. "Claire, it's one thing to lash out at me, but why drag Vincent into this? He's been worried sick since he heard you were hurt, and this is how you repay his concern?"

Tears brimmed in Vanessa's eyes, her expression one of pitiful innocence, as if she were the true victim in this scenario and Claire the unreasonable aggressor.

Claire was all too familiar with Vanessa's feigned concern. The little theatrics made her stomach turn. She knew Vanessa's game—using Vincent as a pawn against her.

There was a time when being misunderstood by her childhood friend would have left Claire devastated. But now, Vincent meant nothing to her.

She raised her hand as if to strike again. Vanessa's face turned pale, and she shrank back, hiding behind Vincent, peeking out with a timid look, whispering, “Claire, you're going too far.” Yet, her eyes betrayed a flicker of smug satisfaction.

“Enough!” Vincent exclaimed, grabbing Claire's hand with a firmness belied by his suppressed fury. “If you're going to lose control, at least have some limits. No one has to put up with your tantrums. If you keep lashing out, don't blame me for what happens next...”

“Smack!” Claire's other hand landed sharply across Vincent's face, cutting off his reprimand.

Stunned, Vincent stared at her, wide-eyed, trying to process what had just happened. It took him a moment to find his voice, and when he did, it was filled with disbelief. “CLAIRE!”

Another resounding slap followed, harder than the first, turning Vincent’s head to the side.

They had grown up together, sharing fifteen years of memories.

Vincent had stood up for her when other kids bullied her; she had shared her meals with him when he was sick.

The laughter and companionship from the orphanage, the moments of mutual support and warmth—had they all vanished like smoke? Could she really cast it all aside so ruthlessly? Did she truly care nothing for him anymore?

Was he not her Vincent? How could he be considered an outsider?

He didn’t want to be just another stranger to her.