Love at First Night: The Billionaire's First Love-Chapter 43: Protective Instincts

>Mallory

"Kaizer?" I called out instinctively. I didn’t even plan to say his name; it just slipped the moment I spotted him.

The fiery red hair was the first thing I saw, then his face—because honestly, people who look that good don’t blend into a crowd.

And that family of his? They all look like life just... handed them the best features possible and said, ’Here, take these too.’

Everyone around him turned to look at me. All at once. Like someone pressed a pause button on whatever argument they were having. Kaizer’s eyes locked onto mine and he straightened so fast his shoulders jerked up, almost like he’d been caught doing something suspicious.

Then he yelled, "WIFE!"

Huh?

His whole face brightened at once—eyes wide, mouth stretched into a big excited grin like a kid who just spotted a free toy. The sudden shift caught me off guard.

Wife? What the hell was he talking about?

I opened my mouth to shut it down immediately, but the crowd reacted faster. A wave of murmurs rippled through them. I could feel their eyes landing on me, sliding from my clothes to my face, then to him, then back to me again.

"Wife? Seriously?" the girl’s boyfriend huffed—yeah, the same guy who punched him—as he glared at me hard. His eyebrows scrunched down, and his gaze kept darting between us like he was waiting for some lie to break apart right in front of him.

I internally groaned. Of course. He was using "wife" as a shield to conveniently escape his situation.

I forced a smile. It felt stiff. Like my face forgot how to smile manually.

"Oh! You’re here!" Kaizer suddenly waved at my son. The tone of his voice changed instantly; it went warm. My son’s entire face beamed back. His dangling legs bounced under the seat before he slid off in this clumsy little hop and sprinted toward Kaizer with both arms swinging hard.

"See? I told you he didn’t do anything," the woman—the reason for the whole scene—latched onto her boyfriend’s arm again. She tugged once, then twice, like she was trying to pull a stubborn piece of furniture that refused to budge.

I moved toward them, and Kaizer bent down a little to catch my son as he ran at him. He lifted him with both arms, one under his legs, the other bracing his back. My hands, meanwhile, curled tightly into fists as I walked.

"Ha! As if!" the boyfriend scoffed, arms folding across his chest so aggressively his elbows practically pointed at people. He puffed out his chest, chin raised like his opinion was somehow superior.

"Good looking boys like him deserve a beating to wake them up in the real world!"

Seriously?

My jaw tightened. I felt the irritation prick behind my eyes.

"Are you okay?" I asked Kaizer. My tone wasn’t gentle—it came out edged. Kaizer rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward laugh, his fingers brushing the reddish mark on his cheek.

"Haha... I’m fine," he said even though his busted lips tells a different story. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Call me meddlesome, whatever. I can’t stand people who hurt others and get proud of themselves for it. People who refuse to admit they’re wrong. People who act like everyone else is beneath their ego. It lights something in my nerves every time. I don’t know if I was projecting but it never miss to make me feel like shit.

"Let’s go! I better not catch you with a man again," the boyfriend spat. He didn’t even look back at Kaizer—just shoved his chin forward and started pulling his girlfriend away like he was the injured party.

My head shot up. My breath felt stuck at the top of my chest. I stared at him for a moment, then inhaled sharply and stepped right in front of them.

"Excuse me," I said, voice colder than I expected. "Would you mind apologizing?"

Everything stopped. Like the whole group just held its breath.

The boyfriend stared at me like I’d just slapped sense into him, but the sense bounced off and hit the floor.

"What?" he growled.

"You hit him," I said, pointing directly at Kaizer. My hand shook for a second but I kept it up, fingers stiff. "And you didn’t even bother asking what actually happened."

His girlfriend tugged at his arm again, sharper this time. "Let’s just go, Mark."

"No," I snapped before she could turn him away. "You don’t get to walk off after that. At least say sorry."

He squared his shoulders like he was gearing up for a fight. He stepped forward, trying to use his weight and height to force me to back off. I didn’t move. His nostrils flared. He dragged his gaze over me slowly, like inspecting something he didn’t like.

"And who are you to make me?" he asked.

Behind me, Kaizer shifted closer. I didn’t see him. I just felt the slight warmth of him near my back. Like a protector willing to step in if something went wrong. My son rested his chin on Kaizer’s shoulder, holding onto his hoodie strings with one hand, eyes following every movement like a silent little recorder.

"I’m the person you’re disrespecting," I said. "So apologize."

He scoffed, loud and mocking. "I’m not apologizing to some—"

He didn’t finish because his girlfriend stepped right between us. She placed her hands on his chest firmly, her fingers visibly trembling.

"Stop," she said, voice strained. "You’re embarrassing both of us."

He glared at her, jaw locking. "For what? I didn’t do anything wrong."

My teeth pressed together so tightly I felt my molars ache.

Kaizer stepped slightly to my side and said evenly, "Look, man... you hit me without asking anything. Just say sorry and go. It doesn’t have to be a big thing."

Mark groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Fine. I’m sorry. Whatever."

"That’s not an apology," I said instantly.

His eyes snapped toward me. "Lady—"

His girlfriend cut him off again. "Mark, please just... apologize. Properly."

He dragged his hand down his face, frustrated, then grumbled, "I’m sorry I hit you."

It wasn’t warm, but it was clearer.

His girlfriend sighed heavily, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him away. He finally let himself be dragged. They walked off still muttering and bickering under their breath until they disappeared around the corner.

The air felt different once they were gone. Lighter, but only a little.

The bell above the pharmacy door chimed when I stepped out with a small white plastic bag digging into my fingers. I scanned around until I spotted Kaizer and my son on one of the concrete seats under the tree. The shade cast uneven shadows over them, leaves moving slowly above their heads.

I approached and set the plastic bag next to Kaizer. It made a soft thud on the concrete. He looked down at it, eyebrows scrunching.

"What is that?" he asked, tilting his head like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to open it.

"Let me see your wound," I said, sitting beside him. I reached into the bag immediately and pulled out the cotton buds and ointment.

"You bought that... for me?" he asked, sounding caught off guard.

I was still irritated. My pulse hadn’t settled properly yet.

This habit of mine—stepping in, opening my damned mouth, and causing a scene—it’s going to burn me one day. But I couldn’t just watch people get away with things.

I looked at him. He was sitting too stiff. His back was straight, shoulders tense, hands resting awkwardly on his thighs like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. I sighed, leaned forward, and grabbed the string of his hoodie, pulling him closer. He jerked in surprise, his shoulders lifting, but I didn’t bother reacting to it.

Once he was close enough, I let the string go and took out the handkerchief from my bag. I wiped the remnant of water from his cheek gently. His eyes followed my movements, without saying anything.

Then I dipped the cotton bud into the ointment and dabbed it softly onto the red mark. The skin around it felt warm.

"You should learn to fight back," I muttered. "You’re probably stronger than that guy."

Before I could finish dabbing, he suddenly reached out, wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me toward him. The movement made my breath jump. His forehead pressed into the side of my neck. His grip wasn’t tight, but it was firm enough that I couldn’t just pull away without effort.

"Don’t move," he whispered.

I froze. My hands hovered midair, still holding the cotton bud stupidly.

A few seconds later, he lifted his head slowly. His eyes moved around sharply, checking the area behind me.

"I’m sorry," he said. "I saw someone taking our pictures."

"Ah." It escaped more like a breath than a word.

He stood up abruptly, adjusting his hoodie, glancing around again with quick, alert movements.

"I don’t think this place is safe anymore," he said. His voice dropped. "Should we go to my office."