My Cold-Hearted Husband Wants Me Back
Chapter 48: Which Hand?

Chapter 48: Which Hand?

The photographer suddenly stepped back. He had no idea that the man Lunara called for backup was none other than Eryx Cyrus Grantham, the CEO of the entire group.

His confidence wavered. The smug expression he wore just moments ago faltered as realization set in. He had assumed she was just another struggling model, desperate enough to pay off a debt however she could. But now?

Now, he was standing in front of one of the most powerful men in the industry.

Eryx’s piercing gaze remained locked on Lunara’s cheek, the faint redness standing out against her pale skin. His jaw tightened.

The silence in the room stretched painfully long. No one dared to speak. The air was thick with tension.

"Who... Did... This?"

The words weren’t loud, but they cut through the air like a blade.

Lunara swallowed. She didn’t know if she should answer. Would this escalate even more? Would this be the kind of trouble that she couldn’t recover from?

Her hesitation was all the confirmation Eryx needed.

His gaze flickered toward the photographer, cold and calculating.

"Was it you?"

The photographer’s hands snapped up first, waving, denying it. "She slapped me first, I—"

Eryx’s gaze turned razor-sharp. "She slapped you first?" His voice sounded so scary, each word dripping with icy disbelief.

The photographer stammered, his confidence completely shattered. "I—I mean, she was the one who got aggressive first! I was just asking her to pay for the damage, and she—"

Eryx took a slow step forward, and the photographer instantly shut his mouth.

"She slapped you," Eryx repeated, his tone eerily calm. "And yet, she’s the one with a red mark on her cheek."

The photographer swallowed hard, sweat forming at his temple. "I-I didn’t mean to—"

Eryx cut him off with a sharp look. "That camera. How much is it?"

The photographer hesitated, glancing at Lunara before clearing his throat. "T-Twenty thousand," he stammered.

Eryx let out a short, humorless chuckle. "Twenty thousand?" He tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze pinning the man in place. "And you thought the best way to collect was to lay hands on my wife?"

The entire studio fell into stunned silence. Eyes widened, whispers spread like wildfire, and a few people even gasped audibly.

Lunara felt her stomach drop. ’Oh no. No, no, no.’

Her hands instinctively reached for Eryx’s arm, gripping it tightly as if grounding herself.

Her stomach twisted as heat rushed to her face. Eryx just declared it and publicly, without hesitation. She wasn’t sure what terrified her more, the way everyone was now staring at her or the fact that there was no taking it back.

"H-His wife?" someone mumbled in shock.

"Wait, so she is married? To him?" another whispered.

Lunara’s grip on Eryx’s sleeve tightened. This was bad. Really bad. She wasn’t supposed to be exposed like this, not when she had fought so hard to stay unnoticed under the weight of Regina’s influence. Now, there was no stopping the rumors.

She tugged on his sleeve desperately. "Mr. Grantham, you—"

"Who is Mr. Grantham?" Eryx’s icy cold eyes shifted to her, "I came here as your ’hubby’."

Lunara’s breath hitched. Her fingers curled tighter around his sleeve as a wave of panic surged through her. Why was he making this worse?

The murmurs around them grew louder.

"Hubby? Did he just call himself her hubby?"

"No way... is she really married to him? We didn’t hear it wrong."

Her heart pounded. She wanted to correct him, to tell him to stop, but Eryx’s presence was suffocating. He wasn’t just standing there, he was owning the room, making it clear to everyone that he wasn’t someone to question.

The photographer’s face had gone pale, his confidence completely shattered. "M-Mr. Gran— I mean, sir, I didn’t know she was your—"

Eryx’s gaze bore into the photographer, but he knew he was missing something. He had only pieced together the slap and the broken camera. That wasn’t enough.

His voice dropped, steady but dangerous. "What else?"

The photographer flinched. "I—It was an accident. The camera fell—"

Eryx turned to Lunara. "Is that true?"

Lunara hesitated. She didn’t want to make this worse, but lying wasn’t an option either. Her fingers tightened around his sleeve as she swallowed hard. "He... he touched me," she admitted, her voice barely heard.

A deadly silence settled over the room. The photographer’s face was drained of color.

Eryx slowly turned back to him, his jaw tight. "Touched you?" His voice was eerily calm, but Lunara could feel the temperature drop, it was never this cold before.

The photographer stumbled back, hands raised. "I-It was just... just a posture adjustment! She’s exaggerating!"

Eryx let out a quiet chuckle. It was the kind that sent shivers down everyone’s spine. "Exaggerating?" He took a slow step forward. "You’re saying my wife... the woman you put your hands on... is lying?"

Lunara’s heart pounded as she felt the tension in the air crackle like a live wire. The weight of Eryx’s words pressed down on her, making her realize just how serious this had become.

The photographer’s face almost lost its color. His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "N-No! That’s not what I meant—"

Eryx tilted his head slightly, his icy gaze unrelenting. "Then what did you mean?" His voice, although soft, sent goosebumps to everyone that heard it.

Lunara instinctively tightened her hold on his sleeve, her fingers digging into the fabric. "Mr. Grantham, let’s just—"

He didn’t look at her. His focus was entirely on the man before him. "You put your hands where they didn’t belong," Eryx stated, stepping even closer. "And you think twenty thousand is the only price you’ll pay?"

The photographer audibly gulped, sweat beading at his temple. "I-I’ll drop it! The money, let’s forget it! Just... just let’s not blow this out of proportion!"

Eryx finally let out a breath, his lip curling in disdain. "You think this is about money?" His voice dipped lower.

The room was silent, no one daring to move, as Eryx slowly rolled up his sleeves. "Which hand is it?"