Paparazzi

"Miss Palermo, you'll join Mr. and Mrs. Thompson's table. This way, please."

"Okay." When Jim saw me enter the dining hall, he rushed and escorted me to my table. "Thank you, Jim."

Jim pulled a chair for me. I sat down and smiled at the older couple I had met earlier in the hallway.

"There you are! We are wondering when you suddenly disappeared behind us." Mr. Thompson told me after I sat in my chair.

"I went to the powder room, sir."

Mr. Thompson nodded and said, "Ah. So that's why."

I smiled when Mr. Thompson gave me a satisfying smile and stopped querying my whereabouts. I don't want to remember my encounter with Mr. Crazy George. But I guessed it was my unfortunate fate to cross paths with him.

The brother's table was next to mine, and George was throwing a dagger look at me while Rowan was staring at me with intent—it seemed like something was bothering him.

I don't know what happened to their conversation when I left. So, I am hoping George did not tell Rowan any false information about me. Everything is a mistake, but I could not correct it—now I have a headache contemplating how to clarify myself without exposing Camilla.

"Are you alone, dear?"

Mrs. Thompson sounded next to me, and I returned to my senses after she queried.

"No, ma'am," I replied in a hurry, and I think my voice was loud as both George and Rowan looked at our table, and the former constricted his pupils while throwing a dagger at me.

I ignored their malicious stares and continued chatting with Mrs. Thompson. I'm glad the older lady was warm, so I didn't get bored while waiting for the welcome party to begin.

Mrs. Thompson asked me what my plan was for tomorrow and which places I would like to visit. At first, I wanted to tour around this city and maybe the countryside, but after I learned of Camilla's affair, I just wanted to speak with her. And tonight, I will take a chance to talk to Florian.

He had to bring me to where she was staying. I want to speak with my best friend and enlighten her that what she is doing is wrong.

Suddenly, he appeared with his wife, and I was just thinking about him. If I am not mistaken, George mentioned the name, Stella.

Stella was gorgeous. She looks perfect from every angle I am looking at. The way she walked and sat down with grace represents true elegance and nobility. So why does Florian cheat on her?

Perhaps she was not a good wife in a particular aspect. When the spouse cheats, they find fault with the other half. Sometimes, people tend to think this way.

I've known several people who have everything already but still got cheated on. So I think—the temptation is whether your spouse or partner is perfect. It was about an individual's weakness and how they will deal with that and stay fidelity to their marriage or relationship.

'Thank God that I was spared being heartbroken in such a way. Otherwise, I don't know how to handle it. Definitely, my heart will be broken, and I know it will take several years. Probably forever.'

After my fiance George, I cannot bring myself to like someone new. Probably because of the depth George had dug inside my heart, and he was buried at the bottom of my chest along with the sand.

"Are you okay, dear?"

I didn't notice I was in a trance, staring at Stella. If it weren't for Mrs. Thompson to pat my shoulder, I would remain falling into deep thoughts—unknowingly that I look stupid because I am crying.

I just noticed teardrops escaping my eyes after Mrs. Thompson handed me a few sheets of Kleenex.

"Here, dear. Wipe your tears before your exquisite makeup smudges your beautiful face. You look so lovely."

"Thank you, Mrs. Thompson." It felt awkward that I cried all of a sudden. It seemed like I had not moved on yet. Instead, I got emotional every time I recalled George and our memories together.

I wiped my tears and recollected myself. I straightened my back and sipped a small amount of water when my eyes made contact with Mr. Crazy George. He was looking at me with a sidelong glance; if his gaze were knives, I'd long died.

"Shameless!" George spat out, and my ears buzzed. Even though he didn't mention a name, I knew he was talking about me.

"Who are you talking about, George?" Stella queried, confused about whom he meant.

"It's nothing, Stella."

George did not say any further, but I caught how his mouth twitched from mumbling in an inaudible voice.

'God! I want to transfer to another table!' I wanted to leave at that moment. Although I am not guilty of anything, I can't stand it anymore.

When I was about to leave the dining hall, Mrs. Thompson asked where I was going. The excuse I used was to go back to the powder room.

When I saw the worry on her face, I acted like my tummy was upset.

I hurried outside, and when I reached the elevator and the door opened, a firm hand pushed me inside. And once again, I was pinned on the wall.

"How shameless are you!" George yelled in my face once again.

It annoys me he didn't stop bothering me. He even followed me and attacked again. As a result, I ensured my palm landed on his face, and I didn't care if it left a red handprint.

"What's wrong with you?" I shouted at him. "I've already told you! You have only mistaken me for someone else! How many times should I say that I'm no one's mistress?!"

I'm glad that only the two of us were in the elevator; then, I could rant all I wanted. However, this guy doesn't want to back down, either. He keeps accusing me—at the same time, insulting me.

"Look at yourself! Do you really compare yourself to Stella? She was a goddess and from a noble family! However, you are only a gold digger!"

When the elevator arrived on our floor, I hurried to get out and ran toward my hotel suite, leaving Mr. Crazy George to continue throwing insults at me. But I am not his cousin's mistress, and I don't compare myself to a woman named Stella so I could overlook his mockery.

"Where are you going? I'm not done yet!"

"You're crazy!" George followed me to my hotel suite.

I could not believe a handsome man like him had a terrible temper. I don't understand. But he seemed too obsessed with his cousin's affair.

I hurried to open my suite door, but my hands suddenly trembled.

"Mr. Graham! Is she your new girlfriend?"

Out of nowhere, two men appeared and began filming us.

"How did you get in here? Who permitted you? Where is the security?"

As I punched the keycard on the door, I heard George yelling at the two men. I turned my head and checked on the two guys rushing toward us.

Thankfully, the door opened, but George pushed me and followed me inside.

"What are you doing? Get out! This is not your suite!"

He hates me. So why does he want to stay another second with me?

He's indeed crazy!