NovelGoldChapter 270 Claire recoiled in panic, and sof the steaming soup sloshed over the edge of the bowl, scalding her hand. She let out a sharp gasp of pain, and the bowl slipped from her grip, crashing to the floor.
Mandy's eyes turned instantly cold and razor-sharp, like a pair of drawn blades fixed on the older woman who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
In that moment, one thought burned fiercely in her mind: she had to protect Claire.
To Mandy, Claire was one of the most important people in her life-her sister in all but blood, someone she would defend with her last breath. And now, this brazen, arrogant woman had dared to lay a hand on Claire. There was no way Mandy would allow it.
Fury blazing in her chest, Mandy charged forward without hesitation and slammed a freshly cooked fried egg straight onto the woman's heavily made-up face.
"Ah-!" The woman let out a piercing, guttural scream, the sound so shrill it was like nails scraped across a chalkboard-painfully loud and grating.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThe egg was blistering hot, and the skin on her face turned red and swollen in an instant. She flailed desperately, trying to shove Mandy off, her features twisted in agony and rage.
But Mandy didn't back down for a second. She lunged again, grabbing the woman by the hair and ruthlessly kicking her in the knee. With a cry of pain, the woman collapsed to the floor.
Mandy seized the moment, shoving the woman's head down into the spilled soup and shards of broken porcelain. The jagged pieces cut into the woman's skin, and blood trickled down her face, mixing with the scalding soup. The scene was utter chaos.
The woman thrashed wildly, shrieking in hysteria, but Mandy held her down with unyielding strength, her eyes filled with nothing but disgust and fury.
The man who had arrived with the older woman finally snapped out of his shock. His eyes widened with rage, and he raised his foot, ready to kick Mandy away.
Claire's heart lurched. Without a second thought, she darted in front of Mandy and shouted, "Mr. Cole, this is the Foster estate-not your family's!" The man glared Claire, hatred blazing in his eyes, barely contained.
This man was none other than Brian's father.
He and his wife had just returned from a vacation abroad the night before. The moment they got home, they learned their beloved son Brian had been thrown in jail by Sean-a bombshell that kept them up all night, frantic with worry.
At dawn, they'd rushed to the Foster residence, hoping Sean might show mercy for their sake and let Brian off the hook.
But the last person they expected to see here was Claire.
Claire was the reason their daughter, Irene, had ended up in a coma-a wound that would never heal for the Cole family.
During the five years Claire spent in prison, the Coles had pulled strings behind the scenes, making sure her life behind bars was as miserable as possible.
When Irene's mother, Karin Cole, saw Claire-the woman she blamed for ruining her daughter-her emotions exploded. On impulse, she lashed out at Claire.
But she never imagined Mandy would fight back so fiercely. She, an elegant society matron, was now kneeling in disgrace, her face pressed into a filthy mess of hot soup and shattered porcelain by a wild, relentless girl.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmNow, Irene's father, Jarrod Cole, stared daggers at Claire, his eyes wide with fury.
He ground out, "You little wretch-you think getting out of prison means you're off the hook? You hurt my daughter, and you're going to pay for it. Dearly." With that, he raised his hand, aiming a slap straight at Claire's face.
Mandy spun around in alarm, desperate to stop him, but she was too late.
She only had tto shout, "If you touch Claire, I'll break your hand!" No sooner had the words left her lips than Jarrod's hand froze in midair.
It wasn't that he hesitated—but that a pair of strong, steady hands had caught his wrist holding him in an iron grip. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move an inch.
Both Claire and Mandy looked up, startled, at the figure standing behind Jarrod. There stood Sean; dressed in black pajamas, the collar loose and slipping off one shoulder, revealing a sharp collarbone.
His hair was a little tousled, but it only added to his natural, aristocratic allure. His dark eyes were as deep and cold as a midnight lake, piercing and intense. Beneath a straight nose, his lips pressed into a hard, merciless line. He radiated an icy, commanding presence that made it impossible to meet his gaze. Jarrod struggled with all his might, veins bulging on his forehead, his face turning beet red, but Sean's grip didn't so much as waver.
Then-crack.
With almost no effort, Sean dislocated Jarrod's arm.
Jarrod howled in pain and collapsed to the floor, the hand that had reached for Claire now limp and useless at his side.
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