“What’s wrong with you? Why are you making a scene?” Darla scolded Fiona, depositing the drink she was carrying earlier, on the table, before placing her hand on her waist like a mother hen trying to teach her chick, here Fiona. “He touched my hand. You shouldn’t have stopped me.” Fiona retorted while sitting on the sofa beside Gwen, still frustrated. She took some wet tissues from her clutch and cleaned her hands thoroughly, remembering his filthy hand on her wrist. “Fiona, I know what that bastard did is wrong but you know what kind of people come to this club and yet you carelessly went and punched him. He possessed a gun for God’s sake, what if he hurt you?” Fiona lowered her head, hearing Neil’s worry etched angry tantrum. That’s right, she was being reckless. Never did she think for a second that he might have a gun with him, take it out of nowhere and tries to shoot her. It’s not that she didn’t know how to dodge a bullet but still it’s a careless thing to do on her
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