Chapter 83 Drama Queen

At this moment, the answer was already glaringly obvious. Through this series of interactions, Arthur Davis confirmed Mr. William Foster’s attitude towards the Young Madam. It wasn’t ordinary tolerance, but a deep affection or even indulgence. Otherwise, with his methods, he would never have allowed a stranger to leave such a distinctive mark on his face. Whether or not the Young Madam was truly bold was still debatable, but Mr. William definitely pampered her. There was no doubt about it. No matter how many doubts there were before, after witnessing today’s situation, no one would question it anymore. This young madam was obviously receiving the strongest support and protection from the entire family. Clara Bennett was thoroughly annoyed. She was usually a gentle and calm person, but today she couldn’t tolerate such behavior. She thought secretly to herself: This is simply too much! Who gave him the courage to mess with me like this? Her brows furrowed tightly, showing obvious anger on her face, even her steps became much more hurried. She had heard people say someone was a drama king, but never had the chance to witness it firsthand. Now hearing the word "drama king," exaggerated scenes instantly appeared in her mind, which she found amusing before, but in reality, they were infuriating. She couldn’t help but shake her head, thinking: These words turned out to be true, I just didn’t understand it before. Now, she finally understood why someone would use the term "drama king" to describe him. This wasn’t ordinary love to perform; it was clearly intent on making her thoroughly annoyed! Seeing William Foster today could have simply gotten the marriage license properly, but insisted on making a fuss, she finally understood what it meant by "too much drama." She gritted her teeth, her chest heaving with anger. The two of them only needed to follow the normal procedure to handle the paperwork and sign the documents, why add so much complexity? And in a public place, it was just adding trouble to trouble! She thought, clenching her fists, feeling she couldn’t endure it anymore. Something that should have gone smoothly was intentionally turned into a chaotic mess by him. Getting a marriage certificate itself was a simple and happy thing, symbolizing the couple’s future entering a new phase. But this man deliberately made it seem like filming a drama, forcing in unnecessary drama. Thinking about this, Clara Bennett felt extremely frustrated. The originally warm day was completely ruined, replaced by an indescribable feeling of irritation and oppression. Alas, really nothing better to do than find trouble. She sighed and rolled her eyes, feeling that her patience had just been exhausted. If not for considering the surrounding eyes, she might have already exploded and scolded him. For now, she could only suppress her anger and quicken her pace to leave this uncomfortable place. When she furiously reached the first floor, William Foster was already standing there waiting for her. Indeed a man full of energy, seemingly not tired of pursuing or waiting. He stood there relaxed, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes focused towards the staircase, clearly anticipating where she would appear from. This made Clara even more agitated, her steps paused for a second as she stared at him for a long time. The more Clara thought about it, the angrier she became, cursing herself for being stupid—why didn’t she take the elevator earlier? Thinking of this, she wished she could kick herself for her careless oversight. Why did she impulsively run down the stairs instead of pressing the elevator button? If she had done that, at least she could have gotten rid of this annoying man behind her, making him fall short would have been the best revenge. Unfortunately, reality is always full of regrets, and she felt deeply frustrated. Now the elevator was so slow, that this vexing man could still catch up to her. Clara looked down at her watch, realizing so much time had passed, but the elevator still remained unresponsive. Meanwhile, she heard familiar footsteps along with slight breathing sounds gradually approaching. She glanced sideways, seeing that figure getting closer, almost sparking fire. William Foster heard her footsteps, his voice soft with pleading: "I’m sorry, Clara, I know I was wrong. I just wanted to give a surprising surprise, and didn’t mean to put you at risk, I thought you would go down behind my back, and then I would propose to you." He leaned forward slightly, trying to bridge the distance between them, and made every effort to appear more sincere and credible. That handsome face was full of apologetic expression, with even a hint of helplessness. Despite his sincere attitude, she showed no sign of calming down. Clara sneered: "Didn’t you think I might simply shake you off and run? William Foster, were you testing me just now?" Her words carried an icy chill, each word struck like a hammer. Her gaze was filled with sarcasm and caution, not wavering an ounce by his humble apology. If it were any other woman, perhaps she would have softened already. But Clara was different, she never easily accepted others’ remorse, nor tolerated deceit and schemes. When she spoke, her gaze was as cold as ice. Her obsidian-like eyes firmly locked on William Foster, with no warmth flowing within, seemingly forming an eternal frost. The atmosphere in the air suddenly froze, as if even the wind dared not blow through. That fierce aura, no matter how hard he tried, seemed hard to melt the slightest bit. Not wanting to make wild guesses was her principle, but she didn’t have much trust in others to begin with. Clara understood the unpredictability of human nature, thus never relied on blind trust to maintain relationships. She firmly believed everyone must take responsibility for their actions, once crossing the boundary it would be irreparable. Therefore, when facing similar situations, she would rather choose to rationally dissect the truth, and not blindly grant trust in exchange for empty emotional compensation. If William Foster really had such intentions, then he was consuming her remaining trust. Thinking of this, she glared at him once more, a strong sense of resistance surged within her. Building trust with another person is not easy, but destroying it only takes a few words or actions. And she had already given a lot, if injured again now, forgiving would be nearly impossible. Wasn’t the story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf enough? The fable told by teachers from childhood still vivid in memory, where continual lying by the boy tending sheep led to no one helping when real danger arrived. Similarly, Clara thought relationships were like that, overusing trust would only hasten the collapse of outcomes. If this time he dared to act the same, then no explanation in the future would be meaningful. The first time can be forgiven, but there’s no chance for a second. This was her bottom line, and also a sort of unwritten rule.