The Strange Groom's Cursed Bride-Chapter 84: Messy dinner 1

"Derren,"

Derren’s smirk widened, ignoring the glacial tone. He was all polished arrogance, his eyes already a little too glazed, lingering on Suzy with an intensity that made Alice’s skin crawl. He’d clearly had a few too many, teetering on the edge of tipsy bravado and genuine instability. "My, my, what a coincidence. Or perhaps... destiny?" He chuckled, a low, self-satisfied sound that grated on the ears. His friend, a lean young man with an equally smug, half-drunk expression, echoed his laugh, nodding along like a bobblehead. Typical rich kids, utterly devoid of self-awareness.

"We’re having dinner," Suzy stated, her gaze unwavering, a clear dismissal in her voice. She pulled her chair slightly closer to Alice, a subtle but unmistakable barrier.

Derren’s eyes flickered to Alice, a fleeting assessment that made her feel like an object, before returning to Suzy.

"And who is your charming new friend?" His tone was laced with mock politeness, a thinly veiled challenge.

Alice felt a slow burn of irritation. This man was truly obnoxious.

Alice noted that for someone Suzy knew, he didn’t seem to recognize Aurora. He was either far above the Malay’s social circle or utterly beneath it. But she doubted the latter.

"She’s with me. And we’re leaving," Suzy declared, pushing her chair back with an audible scrape. It was a clear signal.

Derren’s smirk didn’t falter, but a coldness, fueled by alcohol and bruised ego, crept into his eyes. "Leaving? But we just arrived. I thought we could catch up, Suzy. You’ve been so... elusive." His hand, quick and deliberate, shot out and settled on Suzy’s arm, a possessive, unwelcome touch.

Suzy flinched, pulling back sharply, her face paling. "Get your hand off me, Derren!" Her voice was low, laced with genuine fear now, not just annoyance. "I told you, I’m not interested. Stop following me. It’s honestly creepy!"

But it seemed like she was speaking to a wall of bricks because he reached for her arm again..

Alice’s irritation flared into something protective. She might not know Aurora’s past, but Suzy was like a buddy to her now. And this man was clearly a menace.

"She said to take your hand off her," Alice stated, her voice surprisingly firm, cutting through the jazz music and polite chatter of the restaurant.

Derren’s head snapped towards Alice, his eyes narrowed, a flicker of genuine surprise on his face. He hadn’t expected her intervention. "And who, pray tell, are you to interfere?" His tone was dripping with condescension, a sneer twisting his lips.

"I’m her friend," Alice countered, meeting his gaze squarely. "And she’s uncomfortable. So back off."

Derren stared at her, then threw his head back and laughed, a loud, grating sound that drew curious glances from surrounding tables. His friend chuckled nervously beside him, clearly uncomfortable with Derren’s escalating behavior but too weak-willed to intervene.

"Uncomfortable? Suzy, is this what you tell your new friends? Playing hard to get? You know I always appreciate the chase, but this is getting tiresome." His voice was rising, laced with an aggressive edge. "Do you think you can act the way you please just because you bear the Wildfire name?"

Suzy’s eyes darted around, clearly distressed, desperate for an escape. "Derren. Just leave. We don’t want any trouble."

"Trouble?" Derren’s laughter died, replaced by a chillingly calm menace, his eyes now truly unhinged. He stepped closer, invading their space, his breath reeking of expensive liquor. "You caused trouble when you stood me up last week, darling. Didn’t even have the courtesy to return my calls." His voice grew louder, losing its cultivated smoothness, drawing more attention.

A waitress, a young woman with a polite, worried expression, approached their table hesitantly. "Is everything alright here, sir? Can I help you with anything?"

Derren’s head whipped around, his eyes blazing, red-rimmed and furious. "You! Get out of my face!" Without a word, his hand shot out, a swift, brutal smack across the lady’s cheek. The crack echoed through the suddenly silent restaurant. The lady’s hand flew to her reddening face, tears instantly welling in her eyes. The unexpected action took everyone aback. No one had seen it coming.

"Do you know who I am?!" Derren bellowed, his face contorted with drunken fury. His composure completely shattered, revealing the true psycho underneath. "I could buy this entire pathetic building and fire every single one of you useless peons in a second! Get out of my sight!" He gestured wildly, his hand knocking a nearby glass of water onto the pristine tablecloth.

The restaurant was plunged into an eerie silence. All eyes were on their table, a horrified tableau. The polite murmur had vanished entirely. Suzy was trembling, hands balled into fists, her eyes wide with terror.

Alice was on her feet instantly, beside the lady, her hand hovering, wanting to comfort but caught by the raw fury coiling in her gut. Her hands were shaking beside her with growing rage. This wasn’t just arrogance; it was pure, unadulterated cruelty, made worse by the obvious influence of alcohol. But she shook her head. She had to get Suzy out.

"We’re leaving, Suzy. Now," Alice said, her voice low and tight, laced with a dangerous edge.

Derren’s friend, startled but still obedient, stepped forward, blocking their path. "I don’t think so, ladies. Derren’s not finished."

Derren himself turned back to Suzy, his eyes dark with a terrifying possessiveness, fueled by a twisted sense of entitlement and wounded pride. "You’re coming with me, Suzy. Now." He lunged, his hand reaching for her, intending to grab her arm, but with more violent force this time.

Alice reacted on pure, unadulterated instinct. Rage fueled her. As Derren’s hand shot out, she intercepted it, her palm slamming against his outstretched face with a resounding slap. The sound cracked through the stunned silence like a gunshot.

Derren froze, his head snapping back from the force. His eyes, already wild, widened in disbelief, then narrowed into slits of pure, murderous intent. His cheek was bright red, a stark imprint of Alice’s hand. He touched it, his fingers coming away stained with a smear of blood from his own lip, bitten by the impact.

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