From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer novel Chapter 80

**Chapter 4**

“Of course, I won’t meddle in her everyday social interactions,” he asserted, his voice steady yet laced with an underlying tension. “But I cannot simply ignore those who clearly harbor ulterior motives toward her.”

With that, he released his grip on me, his demeanor shifting as he leaned in closer to Ewan, his tone dropping to a menacing whisper, “Nina is my wife now. You’d do well to keep your distance from her!”

“I have no desire to be the focal point of everyone’s gossip,” Ewan replied, his voice calm yet defiant. “This situation won’t end well for any of us—neither for you, nor for me, nor for her.”

Ewan’s composure seemed unshaken, even in the face of Cedric’s threat. He swirled the wine in his glass thoughtfully before retorting, “Mr. Smith, why the double standards? I’ve been back for a mere three days, yet I’ve already become quite familiar with your scandalous tales. You’re practically the reigning monarch of gossip.”

At that moment, the door swung open with a sudden force, capturing everyone’s attention. Fiona entered dramatically, her backless evening gown clinging to her figure, heavy makeup accentuating her features, and towering ten-centimeter heels clicking sharply against the floor as she strode in with fierce energy.

Her gaze swept across the room like a hawk searching for prey, finally locking onto me. Without a moment’s hesitation, she marched straight toward me, and before anyone could process what was happening, she slapped me hard across the face. The collective gasp that filled the room echoed in my ears, and I stood frozen, stunned by the unexpected assault.

This kind of spectacle was likely unprecedented for everyone gathered there. As I gingerly touched my stinging cheek, a wry sense of self-mockery bubbled up within me. Fiona’s audacity to strike me was undoubtedly bolstered by Cedric’s presence and protection.

Ewan was the first to snap out of his shock. He rushed forward, pushing Fiona down onto the floor with a look of incredulous anger. “What on earth is wrong with you?” he demanded, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and fury.

Cedric, too, seemed to recover from the shock. He crouched beside Fiona, pulling her into his arms as she nestled against him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Cedric,” she sobbed, her voice breaking, “you keep proclaiming your love for me. Why didn’t you let me come with you today? What makes that woman so much better than me?”

Cedric’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he fought to keep his temper in check as he helped her to her feet. “You said you weren’t feeling well,” he murmured, attempting to soothe her. “And today’s gathering requires Mrs. Smith’s presence, not yours.”

Fiona’s anger flared at his words, and she pointed an accusing finger at me, her voice rising in a frantic pitch. “I just don’t understand! You clearly don’t love her, so why won’t you divorce her?”

With each word, Cedric’s expression darkened, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

“Promise me, Cedric,” she insisted, her voice almost a desperate plea. “Divorce her and marry me immediately. I don’t want to be the shadow in your life anymore. We’re the ones who truly love each other, and I deserve to be your Mrs. Smith!”

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