As soon as Eleanore spoke, the room fell silent. Darnell paused, considering the implications. “If this escalates,” he thought, “these women have connections. Jeremiah doesn’t care, but what about Clifford?”

Jeremiah stood impassively, his cold eyes revealing nothing. Then, a stern voice boomed from the dessert shop entrance: “What wouldn’t I allow?”

All eyes widened as they turned to see Clifford Chavez, the Director of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, standing in a black suit. His unexpected presence stunned everyone. Unlike Jeremiah, Clifford was a prominent public figure, frequently seen on television.

Eleanore, though she’d enthusiastically called Clifford’s name, was now too intimidated to speak; she'd only ever seen him on television. Her shock mirrored that of everyone present, except the Chavez family and Yvette. Clifford's formidable reputation, honed through years of skillful international debate, preceded him.

Darnell felt his heart pound. “First Jeremiah, now Clifford,” he thought. “Don't they realize their influence?”

Clifford surveyed the room, his gaze lingering slightly longer on Jeremiah. His mind, however, was preoccupied with Aurora. Her vague phone calls and ambiguous texts, even her simulated crying, had left him worried. This moment offered a rare respite.

Seeing the distressed women, his expression hardened. He moved to Aurora, ensuring she was unharmed, before his gaze shifted to Yvette, sitting beside her. He'd noticed their closeness upon entering, surprised by the intimacy. Aurora, though seemingly easygoing, was usually selective with her companions; she hadn’t been this close to anyone in years.

Aurora, having already stowed her phone, stood and met Clifford’s gaze. Her playful demeanor vanished instantly. She flung herself into his arms, weeping.

The speed of her transformation was astonishing. “Oh, honey,” she sobbed, “they bullied me! I was so scared. Luckily, I know some martial arts, or you might never see me again.” She blinked theatrically.

A fifty-year-old woman feigning such distress seemed less artificial and more endearingly innocent. Of course, Clifford recognized the familiar performance; Aurora hadn’t shed a single tear. She considered tears too precious to waste. In Clifford’s arms, she appeared petite and vulnerable.

Darnell’s face tightened. “Jesus!” he thought. “Her mood swings are faster than a tiger’s.”

Even Eleanore and the others were taken aback by Aurora’s sudden fragility. She hadn't seemed so weak when assaulting them. They saw through her act, understanding Clifford’s infatuation.

Eleanore and several others immediately protested. “Mr. Chavez,” they declared, “you shouldn’t be deceived. She started this!” They insisted on her culpability, pointing to their injuries.

Despite their accusations, Clifford held Aurora tighter. Secretly, Aurora’s hand rested on his waist, pinching his skin. He hissed in pain. “Act well,” she whispered, her words audible only to Yvette. “I’m a bullied woman, and you’re the heroic husband. Underperform, and forget sleeping in our bed.”

Yvette, her long lashes concealing a smile, casually tapped her toes, giving Jeremiah a knowing look as she observed the display.

Jeremiah watched helplessly. “Don’t you two have any restraint?” he thought. “You better not lead Yvette astray.” He gritted his teeth. “Aurora,” he said, “keep acting. Let’s see what happens at home.”

Undeterred, Aurora patted his shoulder sarcastically. “Put on a good show,” she said. Then, resuming her feigned distress, she cried, “Honey, you have to stand up for me.”

Clifford, adjusting his suit, gave the women a cold look. “I know Aurora,” he stated, his voice icy. “If you hadn’t provoked her, why would my gentle, kind wife, who’s afraid of chickens, hurt you? Her actions speak volumes.” His confidence was unwavering.

Aurora gave him a surreptitious thumbs-up, which he playfully acknowledged. “Be good,” he murmured, scratching her palm.

Aurora nodded obediently, playing the dutiful wife. Had Jeremiah not witnessed her childhood prowess in slaughtering chickens, he might have believed it.

Darnell’s eye twitched. “He makes a definitive statement without asking,” he thought, “firmly convinced the others were at fault. Truly lovesick!”

Clifford turned to Darnell. “What happened?” he asked.

Darnell recounted the events, including Jeremiah’s plan to sue for slander.

Clifford listened, then stared blankly at Eleanore and the others. “Let me be clear,” he said gravely. “My son’s choice of girlfriend is none of your business. Who dares question his relationship? In the Chavez family, only death separates us; we don't toy with feelings. What's it to you what kind of person my daughter-in-law is?”

He knew something must have pushed Aurora to react so intensely. His words silenced Eleanore's group. Their attempts to speak were cut short. Regret and fear filled them, but it was too late.

He turned to Jeremiah. “Well done,” he said. “I’ll cover the seven million.” His words confirmed his support of Jeremiah's lawsuit.