Wish you were mine

47. Care or Control?

PENELOPE

My eyes darkened, fury boiling just beneath the surface as I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails pierced the skin of my palms. A sharp sting shot through me, but it was nothing—nothing compared to the fire surging inside.

How dare she.

In that moment, I didn’t regret slapping Ivy—I regretted not slapping her harder. Twice. Three times. She deserved every ounce of humiliation and more.

"Please, sir... I’m sorry," Ivy suddenly pleaded, her voice trembling. "It was just a prank. I didn’t mean any harm."

Sean didn’t even spare her a glance. His face was stone, jaw locked with icy restraint.

"Leave," he said coldly. "Before I call security to drag you out."

"But, sir—"

"LEAVE!" Sean’s voice thundered through the cafeteria, sending a chill down every spine. Ivy flinched, stumbling back. She threw one last venomous glare at me before scurrying off like a disgraced coward.

“Everyone, back to work. Now,” Arthur commanded, clapping his hands. The crowd quickly dispersed, whispering amongst themselves, their curiosity smothered by fear of lingering too long.

Madeline was about to follow when Arthur added, "You stay."

Her eyes widened in panic, and she glanced at me like a child caught with a stolen cookie. I nearly laughed. I never understood why she was so terrified of Arthur—it was almost adorable.

"You haven’t eaten a bite," I said softly. “Come, let’s have lunch.”

She gave me a weak smile and sat.

Sean moved toward me, and without a word, took my hand. I hadn’t even realized I was still clenching my fists in rage. He gently opened my palm, frowning at the crescent-shaped cuts left by my nails.

"Don’t hurt yourself over people like her," he said, his voice low and protective.

I nodded quietly, like a child being gently scolded, and we sat. Sean took the seat beside me, close—too close. Our knees brushed, and a jolt of awareness traveled up my spine. I could feel the warmth of his body even without touching him. It was maddening.

Arthur cleared his throat. "What should I get for everyone?"

“I can get mine,” I said, moving to stand. But Sean’s hand found mine again—firm, unyielding.

"It’s fine. He’ll get it," he said, not even looking at me. His large hand completely covered mine, and the contact sparked something in me I wasn’t ready to name. I quickly pulled my hand back and shifted slightly away, nearly falling off the bench in my attempt to create distance. Sean noticed but didn’t comment.

"I’ll have the chicken rice bowl," I murmured.

Arthur nodded and turned to Madeline, who was shifting in her seat like a fidgety child.

"I’m not really hungry. I’ll just have coffee," she said meekly.

I raised a brow, trying not to laugh. The girl who could devour a buffet was suddenly ‘not hungry’?

“Don’t be shy,” Sean added smoothly. “Order whatever you want. Please—I insist.”

Madeline’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Okay then… I’ll have a chicken burger with fries, a diet coke, um… chicken wings… and a slice of baked cheesecake for dessert."

Arthur blinked. "Is that all, or are you saving room for dinner too?" he deadpanned.

Madeline, oblivious to the sarcasm, replied cheerfully, "This should be enough—for now. I don’t usually eat much at lunch. Gotta stay sharp for work."