He Called Me Fragile, Then I Ripped the Doorframe Apart Barehanded Chapter 04

He Called Me Fragile, Then I Ripped the Doorframe Apart Barehanded Chapter 04

The allergic reaction tormented me for most of the night and did not come under control until Claire administered my prescribed rescue injection.

The next morning, I got up at six as usual and pretended nothing had happened.

At three that afternoon, I was reading in the side courtyard when Victoria pushed open the door. Two distant Mercer relatives followed behind her, the same women who had spent most of the previous night’s dinner whispering vicious gossip in the corner.

“Natalie, several of the older members of the family were very unhappy about what happened last night.”

Victoria sat across from me and crossed her legs.

“One of Adrian’s aunts said that if you’re this sickly, you should keep your head down instead of embarrassing the Mercer family.”

I closed my book.

“I’m sorry about what happened last night.”

My voice remained calm.

By then, I had run out of patience with Victoria, but I still had no desire to escalate the situation. A bigger confrontation would help no one.

“What good is an apology?”

The pinched-faced woman behind Victoria cut in.

“The Langfords used to be a nobody family. You only made your money through the port business. Your father came from nothing, and he still had the nerve to foist his daughter on the Mercers?”

I set down my book and looked at her.

“I suggest you watch your mouth.”

My voice was still soft, but the smile was gone.

She faltered under my stare, then bristled with embarrassed fury.

“What kind of attitude is that? Did I say anything that wasn’t true? Everyone said your mother was the one who threw herself at your father.”

“I already told you,” I interrupted, enunciating every word. “Watch your mouth.”

“That is the second time I have told you.”

The room went silent for a moment.

Victoria smiled and patted the woman’s shoulder, signaling for her to step back.

Then she rose, walked slowly toward me, and bent down until her face was close to mine.

“Natalie, don’t get so worked up. They just like to run their mouths.”

Her voice softened as though she were soothing a child.

“But I am curious. What exactly happened with your mother when she was younger?”

My entire body stiffened.

Victoria straightened, her expression loaded with insinuation.

“I heard Adrian’s aunt talking about it last night. Apparently, your mother had some kind of improper involvement with a man?”

“That’s why people said she threw herself at your father, isn’t it? What respectable woman chases after a man like that?”

My fingers began to tremble.

I was not afraid.

I was holding myself back.

“Shut up.”

“You’re overreacting. I haven’t said anything that bad.” Victoria spread her hands with a smile. “It’s what everyone says—”

“I said shut up.”

I shot to my feet.

The chair skidded more than three feet backward and slammed into the wall with a deafening crash.

Victoria flinched, but her smile quickly returned.

She thought I was bluffing.

As far as she was concerned, I was a sickly little thing who could barely withstand a cold breeze. What possible threat could I pose?

The two women behind her laughed as well.

“Well, look who’s finally losing her temper.”

“Why are you getting so worked up? Are you feeling guilty?”

Victoria looked down at me with the smug malice of someone certain she was untouchable.

She knew I would not dare retaliate.

Langford Group’s survival depended on this marriage, so I could not openly fight back.

That was why she delivered her next words slowly, making sure I heard every one.

“Look at you. You’re weak, constantly running to the ER, and exactly like your mother when she was young.”

“You’re exactly like her—weak, shameless, and born to live off a man.”

A sharp crack split the room.

It was not the sound of a slap.

The spine of the hardcover book in my hand had shattered between two of my fingers.

Bits of paper and binding drifted onto the floor.

The room fell completely silent.

Victoria stared at the mangled book in my hand, and the smile finally froze on her face.

I raised my head.

Tears still clung to my lashes, and my voice remained soft and gentle, carrying the naturally tearful quality I had never been able to shake.

Every word, however, cut like a blade.

“Victoria.”

“You can insult me, and I can let it go.”

“You can bully me, and I can pretend it never happened.”

“But if you say one more word to insult my mother—”

I let the pieces of the book fall from my hand and slowly stepped toward her.

Victoria instinctively took half a step back.

I tilted my head as a tear slipped down my cheek, then gave her a sweet, almost innocent smile.

“Then I’ll rip your mouth apart.”

The instant the words left my lips, I applied the slightest pressure with my fingertips.

The inch-and-a-quarter-thick oak shelf snapped in two like a cracker.

Victoria stared down at the broken board, her smile completely gone.

It was solid oak.