Jilted Ex-wife Billionaire Heiress

Chapter 139 Drunk And Disorderly

'Miss McAllister, I've heard so much about you. You're even more stunning in person than in those internet photos. How about we get to know each other?'

The young man brazenly sat down across from Darya, taking up the seat intended for Bianca.

Darya raised an eyebrow, instantly recognising his type.

The man wore a white Luxoré t-shirt, the uniform of Hagen's rich playboys who had a fat wallet and too much time on their hands.

She had no interest in wasting her time on such a man.

If she were to look for someone new, she wouldn't start by rummaging through the trash.

After all, she had to do better than Micah.

Choosing to ignore him, Darya lowered her head, feigning deep interest in her phone screen.

"But Luxoré was not accustomed to being ignored, especially by a woman.

He believed every woman should feel privileged to receive his attention.

'Miss McAllister, Darya, let's have a drink,' he persisted, unwilling to accept defeat.

He summoned a cocktail from a passing waiter and pushed it toward Darya. Darya glanced at the glass indifferently, showing no intention of accepting it.

'I don't drink,' she replied icily.

Luxoré faced rejection once again, and his dissatisfaction grew.

'You might be a high-and-mighty CEO at your company, but not here. Don't you know the first rule of socialising?' His tone dripped with contempt. 1

Darya couldn't help but laugh mockingly. 'Well, since you are so familiar with those rules, can't you see that I'm not interested in you?'

Her eyes brimmed with ridicule, and her cold stare was enough to make the entitled Luxoré flinch.

How could such a man think he was worthy of her attention?

Darya felt it was a waste of breath to reason with him any longer, so she stood up, ready to find Bianca. But Luxoré, furious and embarrassed by the rejection, reached out and grabbed Darya's arm.

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'What gives you the right to be so proud? You're just a discarded lover, cast aside by the Cavanaughs! Do you honestly believe you're worth anything?"

He sneered, his words laced with arrogance. "You are a businesswoman, right? So you know how to deal What's your price for a night? Money is no object to me."

Before he could finish his sentence, a glass of wine was flung in his face, drenching him from head to toe.

Darya's glass was now empty, and she watched with satisfaction as the liquid trickled down Luzoré's hair, making him look utterly pathetic and ruining his expensive t-shirt.

'You wear a nice cologne, yet your words reek worse than a garbage can,' Darya retorted with a sneer, her eyes

fixed on the infuriated man.

Enraged, Luxoré couldn't bear the humiliation of losing face in front of the crowd.

Accustomed to his own dominance, being put in his place by a woman only stoked his anger.

'Damn woman! I'll teach you a lesson!' he roared, raising his hand to strike Darya across the face.

But just as his palm was about to make contact, someone pulled Darya away from his reach.

Then, in a swift motion, a fist connected with Luxoré's face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

He lay writhing on the floor, his anguished screams filling the air.

It was just a single punch, but he felt as if every bone in his body ached.

Darya's gaze fixated on the newcomer's broad back, her heart pounding with a mixture of emotions.

The air carried the familiar scent of perfume, intermingled with a faint trace of alcohol.

Micah, unexpectedly, had come to her aid and stood as her protector.

His presence sent a wave of conflicting feelings coursing through her.

In the past, she might have succumbed to temptation and fallen into his arms without hesitation.

But now, she was resolute in her decision not to be swayed by him.

Micah's hand still firmly held her wrist, a grip tighter than she had ever experienced in their three years of

marriage.

Even on their wedding day, their symbolic hand-holding had been nothing more than a hollow gesture.

Returning to her senses, Darya swiftly broke free from Micah's grip, stepping back.

Her resistance elicited a slight furrow in Micah's brow, a bitter ache in his heart. Did she despise him this much now?

'Good Lord, Julian Fitzroy, have you gone mad? How dare you provoke Darya?' Ryan, who had been with Micah at the bar, emerged from the crowd, his eyes widening in shock.

The Fitzroy family, owning a couple of companies, was insignificant compared to Darya's stature.

How dare he harass the McAllister heiress?

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Chapter 139 Drunk And Disorderly

Did he truly intend to harm her?

Those witnessing the scene were equally surprised, not by the audacity of the man named julian, but by Micah's unexpected act of protection toward Darya.

Hadn't they recently gone through a bitter divorce?

'Darya, are you all right?' Bianca rushed over, gripping Darya's hand, her fe etched with concern.

Darya squeezed her friend's hand. 'I'm fine."

Such trivial matters couldn't unnerve the CEO of Paragon Group.

Having been trained in Taekwondo, she could have defended herself against the drunk man's weak attempt at

a slap.

However, Micah's sudden intervention had caught her off guard.

'Who... who dares to strike me... M-Mr Cavanaugh?' Julian stammered, finally regaining his composure.

He was about to curse the man who so roughly punched him, but his expression immediately shifted once he recognised Micah, cowering in fear.

His heart pounded like a drum, a profound sense of shock coursing through him.

Didn't Micah have a vendetta against Darya?noveldrama

Why would he now attack him on her behalf?

Aware of Micah's formidable reputation, Julian dared not provoke this influential figure.

He quickly bowed, attempting to justify his actions. 'Micah, I mean, Mr Cavanaugh, I overheard this woman talking smack about you behind your back. I wanted to teach her a lesson-'

Before he could finish his sentence, Micah swiftly kicked him again, sending him crashing back to the ground.

"Teach Darya a lesson? Who do you think you are?' Micah's voice dripped with icy coldness, turning the once- warm atmosphere of the bar into an Arctic cellar.