Chapter 138 Tears and Accusations
Unfazed by the surrounding chaos, Alexander lay deep in slumber.
Ava's cheeks were wet with hot, furious tears. At that moment, William appeared on the scene, drawn by the clamor. His worry had spurred him to rush over, only to find himself in the midst of the unfolding drama.
With a furrowed brow, William quickly positioned himself protectively in front of Ava.
“Ah, who do we have here?” Isabella, comfortably nestled in Alexander’s arms, taunted, “Quite bold of you to accuse others when you've brought a man along.”
Turning towards Ava, William placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps we should go back,” he suggested.
“No, wait.”
Brushing past William, Ava wiped her tears and approached the bed. She reached out and shook Alexander's arm.
“Alexander, wake up! Get up this instant!”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Isabella tried to intervene, only to be pushed aside by a determined Ava.
“Ah!”
Isabella let out a feeble cry as she tumbled onto the bed, whimpering.
“Alex, wake up! They're bullying me. You need to see this.”
The noise gradually roused the man in the bed. His brows furrowed as he slowly opened his eyes to find two women beside him. One was Isabella, her clothes in disarray, and the other was Ava, dressed in a waitress's uniform. He thought he was dreaming.
His head throbbed painfully.
'What on earth happened?' he wondered.
Sitting up in bed, he cradled his aching forehead and turned to Ava, "Ava, what are you doing here?"
Ava glanced down to see his shirt hanging open, revealing a torso marked with the red signs of a woman's touch.
"Alexander, this is too much. You ignore my messages, turn off your phone, and now I find you here? Have you forgotten that you're a married man? We aren’t even divorced yet, and here you are, shamelessly with her!"
The audacity of it all!
She recalled watching dramas where the wronged wife would discover her husband's infidelity and react with explosive, tearful outbursts. She had thought it seemed pointless then, that maintaining composure would be more effective.
But now, as the same scenario played out in her life, she realized that no one was made of emotionless steel and rationality didn't always prevail.
Anger, indignation, tears—it was a typical response. How could anyone remain calm in the face of such betrayal?
When one is not the victim, it's easy to remain detached, believing one could handle it better.
But when the tables turn, one realizes that there's no difference between oneself and others.
Outside the room, the commotion had drawn a crowd of curious onlookers. "Mr. Mitchell, what's happening?"
Alexander's face was a mask of annoyance. He waved them off, "It's nothing. Leave us."
"Yes, sir."
His subordinates retreated from the doorway.
Alexander's gaze then fell upon William, who was still among the crowd. His expression darkened momentarily.
Then, seeing Ava's face, flushed and etched with a mix of anger and hurt, his emotions tangled into a complex knot.
"Alex," Isabella sobbed, clinging to him, "they barged in so suddenly, it scared me to death."
Strategically, Isabella let her slip dress fall once again, pressing her soft body against his.
To any observer, it was clear what had transpired between the two.
