Chapter 65: A Misunderstanding

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Chapter 65: A Misunderstanding

"Your pain vibrates deep into my nerves, causing me to break into pieces. As if your pain is my pain."

Alex Peter


"Not only do we love your patterns, Mr. Peter, we also adore the gel massage insoles," commented Mark Darcy, the eldest of the Darcy brothers. The Darcy twins were the co-founders of The Darcy Group, one of the leading companies in the Fashion Industry.

"However, we concluded that the designs need a little upgrade in order to capture the heart of our clienteles," said Mike Darcy, the second-born twin. His titian hair bounced on his shoulder, unlike Mark, his was slightly longer.

The first Darcy added, "That's where Mr. Schizo steps in." He directed at a dumpy man, in an eerie red suit. "I'm sure you're familiar with his work."

"Yes, I've seen a handful of them." Mr. Schizo was a phenomenal shoe designer. Due to his schizophrenia condition, the media had given him the name Schizo. He's been using the pen name since.

The brothers introduced us. "It's been a huge pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Schizo."

"Likewise, Mr. Peter." We did a firm hand-shake.

The meeting dragged on for about an hour. The shoe designer demonstrated two designs specifically projected for the Ambassadors of The Darcy Group. He explained every layout of the shoes. Thus, the attention shifted on me. I stirred in the middle of the room to present the Alex trademark materials of comfortable soles and insoles.

A couple of minutes later, Mark Darcy uttered, "Alright gentlemen, let's take a 20-minute lunch break. After we fed our tummy, we'll resume by introducing the smashing Ambassadors of the Darcy Brand." Everyone nodded in agreement.

Glad to be out of the board room, I sauntered towards the elevator, avoiding a possible conversation with these diligent businessmen.

When the elevator reached the ground floor, I sprung out and straightaway, my feet found their way to the lounge where Hannah was. My mind couldn't rest in peace. The headline played in my head. The possibilities of her getting hurt again weren't appealing at all. Clearly, she avoided the topic. Before desperation calls, I required an answer from her. She couldn't go through what she went through again.

The sound of a cry made me halt my tracks. My gaze landed on a tiny ponytail haired guy. It robbed me a second to realize the shrieking sound came from Hannah. As I drew neared, I discerned a pair of angel's wings tattoo spread along his neck.

Fear haunted me. He had the same tattoo. No, this couldn't be a coincidence. I did what I should have done a long time ago. My hand sailed its way to his shoulder. In a gleam, I tore him away from her body.

"That's for touching and hurting her." Anger stewed within my veins. My fist voluntarily contacted his face, liberating the rage I kept for years.

The guy, who touched her, regarded my presence for mere seconds before he launched his fist.

Observing his move, I quickly tossed his fist away, landing yet another one on the same spot. A loud groaned resonated among the air particles. He cradled his cheek, wincing. Innocent umber eyes blazed at my direction. I realized it wasn't him. Immediately, I ceased from attacking further. The ink design resembled like his, a lot. I thought it was him. No doubt, I allowed my predicament to be biased by the shitty headline.

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