Chapter 22 - The Catfight (2/2)
The pain—and the sheer unexpectedness of it—stuns Claire. Nobody has ever hit her before. Nobody. And she would never expect such a thing to be coming from a high-society person like Michelle Alcantara. Instantly, she loses it and retaliates, her hand hitting Michelle on the left cheek.
”You bitch…” Michelle holds her cheek as if it's about to collapse. ”You…”
Now, before we proceed to describing the slapping, hair-pulling, scratching, and bikini-shredding that follow, let's point out a few things first.
While this exchange is happening, Gabriel Tan is standing just a few meters from the two women. He stops and admires them from that short distance: he mentally compares the body shapes of the two, admiring their differences, appreciating the fact that these two offer two different worlds. He also realizes, much to his own secret pain, that none of these two are his: Michelle is the irretrievable past, while Claire is just an employee, his fake fiancée. In a perfect world, these two would actually be fighting over him, two gorgeous, head-strong, incredibly voluptuous women who actually love him to death. But the reality is way sadder than that. And his money—the salary he offers Claire—could only achieve so far. So Gabriel stands there, sad and amazed and entertained at the same time.
Meanwhile, everyone has stopped whatever they're doing. They're all watching the two exchange ”pleasantries.” They know it's about to get red-hot serious. The Palace guards stand at attention, but will interfere only if Gabriel gets directly involved—at this point, he's not.
And DJ Blue, the house DJ, realizes they're at the cusp of a turning point in history, so he decides to spin the appropriate track for what's about to happen: Enrique Gil's ”Mobe.”
So hell is unleashed. Michelle couldn't believe this usurper to her throne could have the gall to actually slap her back, instead of submitting to her will and ċȯċkroaching back to the hole she has come from; naturally, she is burning with rage. She grabs Claire's hair and pulls it with all her might. But Claire has quick reflexes—she parries the attack with both her arms while also grabbing Michelle's long tresses. Both women scream curses at each other. The crowd cheers them on. At some point, Michelle manages to use her weight to push Claire into the pool, but it works against her, too—she also falls into the water.
Claire is all poised to follow and attack but a hand grabs her—it's Gabriel. ”Stop it. The show ends here.”
”What?” Claire is still in the thick of emotion. ”Let me show that bitch what real pain is.”
”Stop it, will you?” Gabriel says firmly. ”Let her go.”
Claire struggles from his grasp, but it's no use. She hyperventilates, willing herself to calm down, closing her eyes, counting. She opens her eyes and finds Gabriel still holding her, almost in an embrace.
”Listen,” he says. ”We have to be ready.”
”For what?”
Gabriel gazes into her eyes, and in his best Tony Stark-Robert Downey Jr. voice, mutters, ”For the shitstorm that will follow.”