Had Arianne not worried about ruining Tiffany’s engagement ceremony, she would have swung her fist right there and then.
Honestly, even Arianne was boggled at how cantankerous she had become. Ever since the Aery Kinsey incident back then, it seemed to her that the best way to solve a problem that might require her fists was, indeed, to use her fist without saying another word. Sometimes, actions do speak louder than words... literally.
She gulped a deep breath to calm herself forcibly. “Tell me: did you or did you not hit an old man on the eighth floor earlier? And before you insult me by trying, no, I’m not gonna buy your crap. I have CCTV footage with me, and honestly, I want this solved today, or you’re not going anywhere. Wanna bet?”
A hint of consternation from being exposed flitted through the woman’s eyes. Still, she quickly regained her composure. “What the hell are you yammering about, b*tch? That old man started it by bumping into me!” she rebutted. “Besides, I can’t stop wondering, who let you talk to me like this, huh? You think I’m gonna be stopped by some random b*tch? Or what, you’re gonna tell me that that old man is your grandpa? I mean, he has that same welfare-queen stench like you do, too,” she gibed. “God, you people don’t understand that you don’t belong here, do you? You guys should like, GTFO, before you embarrass yourselves.”
Arianne knew that if push came to shove, she would not be able to stop the woman from going anywhere purely because Jackson, not her, was the boss of the entire event. Arianne had intended her words to stay as a threat, but Jackson was too busy to worry about meddling into this personally while she believed she had to take things into her own hands.
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