Chapter 473

He was still the same old Bruce, a man of insatiable greed and without a shred of moral restraint!

He could just exploit and threaten anyone he wanted!

For his own gain, he could disregard everyone else.

“I’ve told you I have nothing to do with Lysander and won’t marry him! You can forget about it!”

Thalassa said, her voice seething with anger. She jumped up from her seat and walked away.

“Ahh!” Just as she was leaving, a waiter was bringing coffee over, and Thalassa, in her hurry, knocked it from his hand.

It spilled everywhere.

The scalding coffee soaked through her clothes, searing her skin and eliciting a scream. She instinctively stepped back.

“How could you be so careless? You’ve burnt her!” Bruce jumped up from his seat as well, his face red and his veins bulging as he berated the waiter.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it was an accident. Please go to the restroom and rinse it off with cold water,”

the waiter stammered, hastily dabbing at the coffee stains on her dress as he kept apologizing.

Bruce also stepped forward.

Thalassa recoiled, not wanting Bruce anywhere near her, “I’m fine,” she assured the waiter.

She moved her chair to block Bruce’s approach, skirted around it, and walked out a different way.

She couldn’t bear being in the same space as Bruce even just for one sec.

No sooner had Thalassa left the café than Bruce followed her out. He held a napkin in his hand and attempted to dab at the coffee stains on her dress. “Look at you, you’re covered in coffee. Let me help you clean up.”

He moved the napkin around her dress.

Thalassa shrank away, refusing his help, “No need. Just stay away from me!”

Bruce, however, persisted in his efforts to clean her dress, no matter how much Thalassa resisted or pushed him away.

-Thalassa was near breaking point.

“What do you think you’re doing? Let her go!” Suddenly, a clear male voice called out.

A tall man rushed over and yanked Bruce away. He was so angry at Bruce’s earlier inappropriate actions that he couldn’t help but punch Bruce in the eye.

Bruce yelped in pain and staggered back a few steps.

The man, still not pacified, aimed another kick at Bruce and was about to punch him again.

Bruce quickly raised his hands in surrender, “Stop it, I’m her father. It’s a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding!”

The man, Leopold, froze in mid-motion, looking incredulously at Bruce, then at Thalassa.

“Thalassa, should I call the police?”

Thalassa, coming back to her senses and seeing Leopold, was about to speak.

Bruce quickly interjected, “No need to call the police. I am really her father. Thalassa, since you don’t want to see me now, I’ll leave. We can talk about this later.”

Bruce shot Leopold a wary glance, covered his swollen eye, and left.

Leopold, concerned about Thalassa, approached her. He looked at the deep brown coffee stains on her dress, not yet fully dry, and then at Thalassa’s defeated and aggrieved expression. A pang of sympathy hit Leopold. “Thalassa, are you okay? Did you get burnt? Let’s go to the hospital.”

As he spoke, he reached for her hand, visibly anxious.

Thalassa pulled her hand back before he could grasp it. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself.

“I’m fine, there’s no need for the hospital.”

Leopold’s hand fell back to his side and he clenched the air. His eyes were soft with worry as he asked gently, “Was the man really your father?”