When it came to Felicia, nothing was ever right. Everyone seemed entitled to criticize her indiscriminately, to point fingers and blame her for everything. Everyone stood on a moral high ground, acting as though they were infallible. They lectured her with self-righteous arrogance, fulminating at her from every angle.
Felicia looked Sebastian in the eye and asked, “My dear brother, before coming to me, did you go to Kayla? Mrs. Carrell is her aunt, and Pete Cantell is her cousin. If the Carrells wanted to act against our parents, wouldn't she have had more influence and more grounds to stop them? You didn't look for her, did you? You came straight to reprimand me instead. My dear brother, is it because you think I'm the easier one for you to bully?”
Felicia’s reddened eyes brimmed with tears, and she let out a bitter laugh. Sebastian was taken aback by her expression. His body stiffened, and the composed indifference on his face vanished, replaced by befuddlement. “Licia…”
He stood up, intending to wipe away her tears. But before he could reach her, Felicia, with a blank expression, splashed her coffee in his face. Satisfied, she set down the now-coffee-soaked cup. He looked utterly disheveled. Never had he appeared so pitiful.
Sebastian wiped his face, but his clothes and pants were soaked. The café patrons turned their attention to the commotion, whispering and exchanging curious glances. Sebastian pulled two bills from his wallet, left them on the table, and rushed after Felicia. But when he reached the entrance, she was gone.
When Felicia returned to the villa, she found the living room piled with books. She sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through the pages as though nothing had happened, leaving the café. Beneath her calm exterior burned a fierce fire of rage and mixed feelings. Only Stanley knew how low her spirits had been after leaving. At this moment, whoever was foolish enough to provoke her would suffer her wrath. Whether Felicia would erupt in madness or fury was anyone's guess.
And of course, such foolish people did exist. After Stanley instructed the maids to move quietly and told the men outside to stay out of sight, the villa became serene, save for the faint rustling sound of Felicia turning pages. But then, two unwelcome guests arrived, screaming curses with shrill and piercing voices, spewing vile vitriol. It was a shrewd, pretty-looking couple.
Stanley didn’t send his men to deal with them. Instead, he opened the villa door himself, prepared to drive them away. However, the couple seemed emboldened and raised their voices to an ear-splitting pitch, aiming to attract attention. They screamed at the top of their lungs at the villa’s entrance.
“You heartless wretch! Your father and I worked ourselves to the bone to raise you, and now that you’ve grown independent, you’re trying to cut yourself off from us? You even got your brother thrown in jail! He’s about to be executed now! Are you happy?” “If my son dies, I’ll make you pay with your life, you wretched girl! Just you wait! I’ll skin you alive and rip you to shreds!”
The couple was Howell Fuller and Tabitha Shortle. Their outrage stemmed from the impending execution of Shawn Fuller, who was convicted of murder. After all the legal processes were completed, his death sentence was set to be carried out. Upon learning the news, Howell and Tabitha nearly fainted. Spurred on by inflammatory remarks, they stormed to Felicia’s new home, hurling insults in a fit of rage.
Stanley was about to intervene when a cold voice came from behind him. “I’ll handle this.” The voice was calm and composed. Felicia stepped out of the villa, her movements unhurried, her demeanor relaxed and unshaken. Yet her commanding presence was so powerful that it was hard to ignore. Howell and Tabitha froze momentarily, intimidated by her presence. They exchanged glances, silently egging each other on before breaking into even more shameless and vicious cursing.