Chapter 61

Alexander's brow twitched.

He reached out to steady Annabelle. "I thought you had stomach pains. Let's go to the hospital."

"Alexander!" Annabelle suddenly perked up, bouncing on her toes. "They agreed to give us a private dining room—and it's complimentary!"

His gaze turned icy. "The pain's gone?"

"It was terrible earlier, but I feel much better now."

"Did you threaten the staff again?"

"I merely educated them on legal liabilities," she said smugly, tilting her chin up. "If anything happened to me here, they'd face immediate shutdown. Do you know how much this viral restaurant makes daily? Imagine their losses."

Alexander studied her triumphant expression, his chest tightening.

"Let's eat." Annabelle moved to loop her arm through his.

He sidestepped her. "Go ahead. I'm not hungry."

"Running back to Dr. Carter at the hospital?" She scoffed. "Even after deleting her contact, you still can't let go?"

"You dragged her into traffic. Shouldn't I check on her?"

"She's got her white knight guarding her," Annabelle sneered. "Since when is that your concern?"

"Taking responsibility is basic decency."

Her face darkened. "I just wanted to scare her off. If a pregnant woman like me is fine, what could possibly happen to her?"

Murmurs rippled through the queue. "If she hadn't shielded you, would you be standing here unharmed?"

Annabelle whirled around. "You saw her shield me? We walked out together—I was just slower! Slander is actionable!"

"Then sue me!" A young woman stepped forward. "You stopped abruptly and flung her into the road. She could've escaped, but she turned back to protect you—that's why the car hit her!"

Alexander's pupils constricted. "She was hit?"

"Rolled across the pavement multiple times," the woman pointed at the ceiling. "It's all on camera. Control your wife, handsome. Not every woman who glances your way deserves a death sentence."

Annabelle exploded. "One stalked my husband with her phone, the other tailed us here! They got what they deserved—shameless homewreckers!"

"Stalking?" The woman snorted. "This is a viral restaurant. People come for photos. She never even spoke to your husband. More like unlucky—"

"Who are you calling unlucky?!"

Alexander clamped onto Annabelle's wrist. "We're leaving."

"Go by yourself!"

His voice dropped to subzero. "Last chance. Are you coming?"