Like a beautiful doll without a soul, she appeared lifeless.

"I apologize for the delay. There was traffic," Harland apologized as he sat down across her. “I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

Slowly, Camila turned to face him.

Unaware of her turmoil, Harland queried, "Did you manage to clear things up with Jaylen?"

Her gaze fixed on him, her hands clenched into fists under the table, her knuckles turning white.

The next instant, her hand shot out, slapping Harland across the face!

Bang!

The slap echoed through the cafe.

Stunned, Harland looked at her, a mix of surprise and anger on his face.

His temper flared. After all, no one liked being slapped for no reason.

"What's the meaning of this?"

Harland had never been slapped before, and his right cheek burned with humiliation.

"Does it hurt?" Camila asked coldly.

Quick to save face, Harland replied, "Whether it hurts or not doesn't matter. As a man, I can handle pain. It's just that a man's face is his dignity. How could you... especially in public like this?"

The resounding slap had drawn attention from bystanders. His face turned red.

"Do you see everyone staring at me now?" Standing up, Camila asserted, “If you weren't used, but an accomplice, that slap would have been a knife instead."

Harland's face turned pale. He finally seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation.

"What did Jaylen do?" he asked.

Ignoring his question, Camila walked ahead.

Harland caught up and reached out to stop her. “Explain it to me.