?Chapter 1502:


    Sandra didn’t care about any of the setup outside the restaurant, but as soon as she stepped out, Andres emerged from the car, bouquet in hand, a hopeful smile on his face. “Sandra!”


    He blocked her way, offering up the blue roses. “Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”


    He still had no clue what he’d done to get himself blocked or why Sandra was upset, but he was prepared to admit fault if that was what it took.


    Sandra barely nced at the roses, knowing full well how costly they were, but the price tag did nothing to sway her.


    The sight of Andres brought back all her regrets—how foolish she’d been to fall for his tricks. Now, here he was again, pretending to be a romantic hero. It was both maddening and pathetic.


    She shot Andres a cold, unyielding re, her patience worn thin. No matter how handsome he was, all she saw was an insufferable jerk blocking her way.


    Without another word, she sidestepped him and headed straight for the office building.


    Andres moved to block her path again,pletely baffled by her coldness. In his mind, he had gone all outvish gestures, pricey flowers, everything he thought would win her over. What more could she possibly expect from him? Even tantrums should have their limits, shouldn’t they?


    “Sandra, why are you being like this? Tell me, what did I do wrong?” Andres pleaded.


    Sandra stared at his wide-eyed innocence, almost impressed by how convincing his act was. Then, without warning, she pped Andres hard across the face. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what you did. You actually have the nerve to ask?”


    Andres reyed the past few days in his mind. He was certain Sandra couldn’t have uncovered his involvement with anyone else. How had things spiraled out of control?


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    His palm pressed to his stinging cheek, and a sh of irritation crossed his face. Never before had a woman dared to p him while he was pursuing her. Sandra was a first.


    If it weren’t for the fact that he needed Sandra for his ns to secure his family’s business, he would have lost his temper right then and there.


    Trying to y the victim, he said, “Sandra, can’t you just tell me what’s wrong? I honestly didn’t do anything. You’re hurting me when you treat me like this. I really love you.”


    “Still putting on a show?” Sandra pulled out her phone and held it up, disying the photos Loretta had sent her.


    Andres froze. He’d been so sure he’d hidden his affairs, juggling his secrets without anyone catching on.


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