Chapter 259: Call The Cops

April remained completely silent, her fists clenching so hard her nails bit into her palms.

Her head was lowered, her dark eyes staring fixedly at the black, oily stain spreading down the front of her outfit. The foul smell was sickening.

Seeing April’s silence, the woman puffed out her chest, her tone growing even more arrogant and aggressive.

"What’s with the quiet act, huh? You think because you’re wearing nice clothes you’re somebody high and mighty?!" the supervisor sneered, stepping closer and slapping her wet rubber gloves against her apron. "Look what you made me do! You spilled half the bucket on the floor and you couldnt even apologize. Look at what you’ve done—wipe this floor up before I call security and have you thrown out for trespassing!"

April still stayed silent and decided to simply turn and walk away. There was no need to cause a scene or call security; she was already leaving. She inwardly admitted it was partly her fault for not watching where she was going, and she was willing to cut the ignorant woman some slack given the chaotic back of house environment.

She just wanted to get off the foul, slick fabric, and wash the nauseating sensation of grease off her skin.

However, the supervisor refused to let it go.

Seeing April turn her back, the woman’s face contorted with anger. She reached out with a heavy, rubber-gloved hand and yanked April violently back by her arm.

"Where do you think you’re going?!" the supervisor barked, her grip tightening hard around April’s forearm. "Who’s going to clean this up?! You think you can just dump grease across my floor and strut away like a princess? You’re not moving a single inch until this mess is wiped clean!"

The sharp, sudden physical grab snapped the thin thread of April’s restraint.

A freezing, lethal stillness fell over April. Slowly, her dark eyes lifted, locking onto the woman’s face with a cold, unblinking glare that held the weight of absolute death.

"Just because you’re having a bad day doesn’t mean you should lose your basic manners as a human being," April said, her voice dropping into a low, freezing register.

"What?!" the woman gasped, taken aback by the sudden authority radiating from her.

"Unhand me," April added, her tone lethal, "or I will make you regret crossing paths with me today."

"And who do you think you are, speaking to me about regret?!" the supervisor shrieked, her grip tightening stubbornly. "I was handpicked by the event committee to manage staff for such a massive venue! And you’re just some little snooper trying to sneak into the back to strike it rich! You think you can talk down to me—"

The woman’s venomous sneer and her tight, painful grip suddenly overlapped with an image from April’s past. Matilda. The overbearing housekeeper of the Morgan family who used to shove her around and treat her like trash just because she held an ounce of trivial authority.

The recollection made April’s blood boil into a roaring inferno. She had stayed silent. She had admitted to herself that she should have looked where she was going, and she was willing to walk away cleanly just to wash this disgusting, murky grease off her skin. But this woman insisted on being an arrogant tyrant.

April didn’t hesitate for another second.

SLAP!

A resounding crack echoed through the concrete service corridor as April’s palm whipped across the supervisor’s face, sending her head snapping back. Before the woman could even register the shock, April drove a swift, precise kick straight into the back of her knee.

The supervisor’s leg buckled instantly, and she hit the hard floor with a heavy thud—landing flat on her back right into the massive, foul pool of lukewarm kitchen grease and black oil she had spilled earlier.

"Ah! My face! My back!" the woman shrieked, squirming frantically as the slimy liquid soaked through her clothes and hair.

The commotion quickly drew a crowd of nearby venue staff and passing crew members, who gathered at the edges of the hallway in utter shock. Whispers immediately broke out among the onlookers as April retrieved a leather whip from her spatial storage, her face completely cold and unreadable.

"Is she crazy?!" someone whispered in horror.

"Look at her... isn’t this a complete abuse of power? Someone call security! Call the cops!"

Ignoring the gasps around her, April brought out a whip straight from her spatial dimension, ignoring the fact that others could see her. She didn’t care.

She was angry and she didn’t plan to suppress it while ’minding’ her image. This woman brought it all on herself for messing with the wrong lady.

The whip came down with brutal, measured precision, landing sharp, stinging strikes against the floor right beside the woman’s writhing form to keep her pinned in her own mess.

The loud crack of leather hitting concrete echoed through the hall, keeping the crowd at a terrified distance.

But just as she was compelled to give this woman a dose of her own making, she stopped.

Maybe whipping her in public was going a bit too far, a rational side of her thought. She wasn’t a tyrant, and craving chaos this much wasn’t exactly normal either.

April took in a deep breath, let it out and then tossed the whip aside into the grease before turning on her heel, her breath heavy, eager to leave the revolting stench behind.

But just then...

"What is going on here?!"

A deep, cold voice boomed through the corridor, instantly silencing the murmuring crowd. The onlookers parted like the Red Sea as Xavier strode into the hallway, his presence sharp, commanding, and suffocatingly powerful.

Seeing her ultimate employer, the grease-soaked supervisor dragged herself across the slick floor, crawling on her hands and knees toward Xavier’s boots.

"Sir! Master Reed, please! Justice!" she sobbed hysterically, wiping oil from her eyes. "This crazy girl attacked me! She poured grease all over the floor and whipped me! Please, have her arrested—"

April knew she didn’t whip her, but maybe she should’ve done it after all.

Xavier didn’t even glance down at the crawling woman. The second his eyes landed on April, his entire posture froze.

His eyes widened in shock as he took in the dark, foul kitchen oil drenched across April’s clothes, her sleeves, and her neck.

"Oh my god... April, what happened to you?" Xavier uttered, stepping right past the groveling supervisor without a second thought.

Before April could answer, Xavier ripped off his expensive, custom-tailored suit jacket in one swift motion, stepping forward to wrap the cozy, pristine fabric around her grease-stained shoulders.

Xavier’s face hardened into a terrifying mask of pure frost. "Who did this to you?"