?Chapter 412:
Hawk and Chick
Franco walked too quickly for Connor to intervene. As Franco confronted Marissa, Connor cast his eyes to the ceiling, silently hoping she would show leniency to his cousin for his sake.
In stark contrast, the expressions of Domenic, Marc, and Terry brightened. They eagerly anticipated the unfolding scene, convinced that no one could deter a man bent on his own downfall.
Franco faced Marissa with a stern gaze and held his tongue, believing his icy demeanor would unnerve her.
Yet, Marissa exhibited no trace of fear. She casually met his gaze before lowering her eyes slightly. “Do you want to speak with me?” she asked, her voiceced with indifference.
Franco let out a derisive snort. “Why haven’t you asked why I seem to look down upon you?”
L?t??τ ch?ρτ?rs ιn g??l?ov?l??.??о??
“Oh,” responded Marissa, maintaining her casual tone. With a flicker of amusement, she continued, “Why should I? Your opinions hold no weight with me. When has a hawk ever fretted over the chirping of a chick?”
“You—” Franco was rendered speechless.
He quickly tried to regainposure, chuckling in a forced manner. “So, you see yourself as the hawk, and me as the chick?”
Marissa smiled slightly. “Isn’t that obvious?”
Franco’s frustration with her calm demeanor grew. Suddenly, he burst out, “Tiffany Nash, you think you’re so superior, looking down on IT engineers just because you’ve had some sess in art?
Let me tell you something. To us, artists like you are relics, redundant. Frankly, you’re losers. Your art is nothing but trinkets within your circles. Meanwhile, what we do propels society forward, shaping how humanity evolves. And artists?
You contribute nothing of worth, particrly an artist with your notorious reputation. You’re seen as a failure, a drain on society.”
As his fervor intensified, Franco ced his hands on his hips. “How dare youpare yourself to a hawk and call me a chick! It’s high time you looked in the mirror. You’re the chick here, understood?”
Connor nced at the ceiling once more, feeling he should stay out of the fray. Thus, he stepped aside, ready to observe the unfolding drama.
Domenic, Marc, and Terry looked on with barely concealed glee. Earlier, they had watched Franco with curiosity, wondering about his moves. Now, their attention shifted to Marissa, as they eagerly anticipated her response to Franco’s challenge.
The atmosphere was charged with an odd tension. Everyone feigned ignorance, yet Franco alone seemed genuinely excited, blissfully unaware of the looming repercussions.
Marissa listened to him with quiet poise. When Franco finally paused, she looked up at him, her smile barely there. “Are you finished?”
Franco was taken aback by her tranquility, even after his tirade. Internally, he scorned her for her shamelessness, realizing it was no surprise she had managed to manipte Arabe into pressuring Connor into marriage.
Connor might have been powerless against Tiffany, but Franco was resolute in not showing her any leniency, determined to reprimand her on Connor’s behalf.
“Not yet,” Franco asserted.
“Please, continue,” Marissa said, her toneced with amusement.
Franco inhaled deeply and continued, “When are you nning to divorce my cousin?”
“Are you done now?” Marissa inquired.
After a brief pause, Franco nodded. “Yes, I’m done.”
Marissa responded with a light nod. “First, tell your cousin to set a date for our divorce proceedings. I’m not opposed to it.”
With those words, she stood up and beamed at Franco. “Now, to address your earlier usations. I’m not the worthless person you imagine. Painting isn’t my only skill.”
Franco, puzzled, asked reflexively, “And what else can you do?”
With an innocent smile, Marissa revealed, “I’ve trained in martial arts.”
“You know martial arts?” Franco scoffed. “Big deal. I’ve trained in martial arts too.”
“Really?” Marissa’s smile widened, tinged with intrigue. “What a coincidence! Shall we test our skills against each other?”
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