Chapter 10

Noah Thorpe, the second son of Thorpe Corp, was Wilson’s childhood friend. Handsome and well-dressed, his attitude and behavior were nonetheless insufferable. He had disliked Daphne from the very beginning, often mocking her rural background and claiming she reeked of poverty and didn't belong in their social circle. He treated her with disdain every time they met.

Previously, Noah had kept his insults in check out of respect for Wilson. But now that Wilson and Daphne were divorced, no one was happier than Noah—except perhaps Yvonne.

Carrying a bag containing cake from a luxurious bakery, Noah intentionally bumped Daphne's shoulder as he passed and then fawned over Yvonne. "Yvonne," he said, "I know you love desserts from this shop, so I had someone wait in line to get this for you. It's a limited-edition Black Dove. They only make ten every day. I'm wishing you and Will everlasting happiness, my dearest sister-in-law."

In the seven years Wilson and Daphne were married, Noah had never once called her his "sister-in-law." Yet now, he was using the term before Yvonne and Wilson were even married.

Zoey felt a surge of indignation on behalf of her sister.

"Daphne, is this how you've been bullying Yvonne when I'm not around?" Wilson's tone was icy, laced with venom. His dark gaze, blending with the shadows, carried chilling intensity; he was like a predator about to strike.

Daphne's breath caught. Her fingers curled before relaxing. She adjusted her disheveled hair, regained her composure, and slowly turned to face him. Striving to appear calm, she said, "Bullied her? Your mistress is lucky no one's putting her in her place. She ran her mouth and got taught a lesson. That seems fair to me."

Daphne knew arguing with Wilson was pointless; he always sided with Yvonne.

Seeing Wilson arrive, Yvonne's entourage regained their confidence. Silent moments earlier, they now clamored all at once.

"Mr. Farrell, thank goodness you're here! If you hadn't come, Yvonne would have been beaten to death by Zoey!"

"Mr. Farrell, you have to stand up for Yvonne. She didn't do anything, and they attacked her with a beer bottle out of nowhere!"

Wilson's gaze darkened as he noticed the shards of broken glass scattered across the floor. His brows furrowed in displeasure.

Yvonne seized the moment, throwing herself into his arms and sobbing. "Mr. Farrell, it's my fault. I shouldn't have shown up and upset Daphne. But I didn't know she was sitting in the booth next to mine. If I'd known, I wouldn't have come. Please don't blame Daphne. It's just a few slaps and a broken bottle. I—I'm fine, really. I can take it…"

Yvonne's well-practiced display of helplessness successfully stoked Wilson's anger.

He narrowed his eyes at Daphne, saying sharply and accusatorily, "Which hand did you use to hit Yvonne?"

Daphne chuckled. She was unable to reconcile the man before her with the cunning, calculated businessman she once knew. Her gaze turned cold, full of disdain, as if she were looking at a fool. "What do you think?"

Zoey, noticing the increasingly tense standoff, stepped forward to explain, worried that her impulsive actions might cause trouble for her sister. "I was the one who hit Yvonne, and I broke the bottle, but I didn't hit her with it."

Yvonne's sobs rose again. "Mr. Farrell, Zoey's right. She didn't hit me with the bottle. It was me; I accidentally knocked the bottle out of her hand. Please don't blame her…"

However, this was Yvonne's reserved booth. Why would Zoey bring a bottle there? Anyone with common sense could see Yvonne's story didn't add up.

Wilson let out a cold laugh. "Without Daphne's instigation, would Zoey have dared to cause trouble for you?"

He turned to Daphne. Before she could react, he grabbed her wrist and flung her toward Yvonne. His commanding gaze bore into her. "Hit her back."

No one expected Wilson to take Yvonne's side so extremely—not even Yvonne herself. Her eyes sparkled with unconcealed triumph, though she feigned her usual meek and helpless demeanor. "Mr. Farrell, I… I wouldn't dare…"

"What's there to be afraid of? Do it!"

To Wilson, Yvonne's hesitation was the result of being bullied by Daphne. His dark eyes grew colder and more menacing. "I'm right here. She won't dare do anything to you. Hit her."

Yvonne hesitated before her hand twitched.

Daphne let out a disdainful snort. "Go ahead. Try me."

Wilson's patience snapped, and his gaze shifted to Noah. "Hold her down."

Seizing the opportunity to humiliate Daphne, Noah grinned and cracked his knuckles. "Got it."

In a second, Daphne was pinned, unable to move. She felt his hand gripping her shoulder painfully, as if he were trying to crush her bones.

Anger ignited in Daphne's chest, burning fiercely. Seven years of marriage! They had gotten together out of love, but now, with his feelings gone, he was capable of this heartlessness.

"Wilson, do you really have to take it this far?" Daphne asked, her tone unnervingly calm, her eyes fixed on him. Her sharp, almond-shaped eyes tilted upward at the corners, exuding a cold, striking allure. The slight lift of her gaze was as piercing as a venomous snake flicking its tongue.

Wilson felt an icy hatred radiating from those eyes. This wasn't the Daphne he knew—the obedient, submissive Daphne who never dared to go against him. An unfamiliar weight settled in his chest. He didn't like this Daphne.

He turned and gently patted Yvonne's head. "If I don't do this, she'll never learn her lesson. Yvonne, do it."

Zoey panicked and shouted, "If you're going to hit someone, hit me! Don't touch my sister! Wilson Farrell, it was me who hit Yvonne! You're just a coward bullying my sister because she used to love you. You're truly heartless!"

"Zoey, stop wasting your breath on him," Daphne interjected, unwilling to hear about her past with Wilson. She looked directly at him and said coldly, "Wilson, you'd better kill me now. Otherwise, we'll settle this later."

As she thought back on their relationship, all Daphne felt was disgust.

Wilson's hand, which had been softly ruffling Yvonne's hair, paused. But his tone remained merciless. "Do it."

Yvonne desperately wanted to obey but also to maintain her image of kindness. She couldn't afford to be seen openly bullying Daphne. Instead, she redirected the slap, landing it hard on Zoey's face.

Using a tearful voice to feign remorse, she said, "I'm so sorry. Mr. Farrell told me to do it. I don't want to hit Daphne, so Zoey, I have no choice but to take it out on you. Please don't blame me for this…"

It was one slap, then two, then three… Daphne silently counted each slap. By the time Yvonne was done, she had delivered thirteen in total. Daphne neither begged nor resisted; she remained eerily calm. Yvonne continued murmuring apologies, but the force behind each slap never lessened. When she finally stopped, Zoey's face was swollen and red.