My Husband Is a Gary Stu

Chapter 1543 How Dare You Accuse My Wife

Fearing that Johanna might be bullied, Denise rushed in and grabbed Quincey's arm. Meanwhile, Quincey's assistant, worried that Quincey might get hit, also stepped in to break up the fight.

The women were so engrossed in their scuffle on the floor that they didn't even hear the doorbell ring.

By the time Hugh and Quincey's agent got the apartment door code and hurriedly entered the unit with Timothy, they were met with a scene of utter chaos.

Timothy strode over and pulled Johanna out of the crowd. “Jojo, are you okay?” Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

After being helped to her feet by her assistant, Quincey's eyes filled with tears the moment she saw Hugh. “Mr. Cabot,” she said through sobs, “Ms. Joule stole my ring and won't admit it. She even slapped me. Look at my face.”

Hugh glanced at Timothy, not daring to utter a single word.

“Mr. Cabot, please speak up for me,” Quincey pleaded, her voice choked with tears. Her crying intensified as she wailed, “I'm the one being hit and bullied. Are you just going to stand there and watch?”

“Shut up!” Timothy barked, his face stern with anger.

Startled, Quincey's shoulders shuddered. She had a vague feeling that she had seen Timothy somewhere before, but she couldn't quite place him.

Still, she simply could not swallow her indignity. With tears-filled eyes and a sobbing tone, she

protested, “I'm the one who got hit; why should I keep quiet? All I said was that Ms. Joule is married but still messing around outside. I didn't make this up out of thin air. I saw it on a webpage. If she's angry, she should complain to the website. Why would she hit me?”

“My wife had an affair with another man? Who is he? Why don't I know about it?” Timothy glared at Quincey and continued, “You start gossiping at the slightest news. Slapping you was too lenient from her.”

“What?” Quincey momentarily forgot to cry. She glanced at Timothy again and quickly remembered who he was.

Timothy Jensen, the current chairman of Forlisle Group.

She knew that Timothy had married early, but his spouse was not a public figure. She never imagined that his wife would turn out to be Johanna.

Now she understood why Hugh had been standing quietly aside since he came in.

After Timothy finished speaking, he ignored Quincey. He noticed that Johanna's cheek was scratched by a fingernail and felt a pang of heartache. He promptly ordered Quincey's assistant to bring over a band-aid.

Quincey didn't dare to mutter a word and looked to Hugh for help.

Once Timothy had finished treating Johanna's wound, Hugh quietly asked Quincey to apologize to Johanna. After all, Quincey was a profitable artist from their own company, and Hugh didn't want to see her career cut short.

With a trembling heart, Quincey stepped forward and apologized, “I'm sorry, Ms. Joule. It's all my fault. I hope you can forgive me.”

“You insulted me, and I slapped you twice. We're even,” Johanna said indifferently. “But the loss of your two-million ring has nothing to do with me or my assistant.”

“It's my fault. I've wronged you,” Quincey said softly, all traces of arrogance gone.

Timothy asked, “What's going on?”

Before Johanna could speak up, Denise had already explained the situation to Timothy, “This morning, we came to style Ms. Hartwell. Later, she lost a valuable item and insisted that Johanna stole it. She even mocked Johanna for not being unable to afford jewelry and being greedy. Johanna was so upset that she snapped back.”

Timothy looked at Quincey and said sneeringly, “Each piece of jewelry in my wife's drawers is worth a fortune. Your two-million ring is worth nothing in comparison. Who do you think you are, accusing my wife like this?”

Quincey hung her head, not daring to utter a single word after being scolded by him.

At that point, Hugh stepped in to defend Quincey, “Mr. Jensen, it's my fault for not managing the artists well. I also owe an apology to Mrs. Jensen.”

“We can't just let this go,” Timothy said, his face darkening. “Since she lost her ring, she either needs to find it or figure out who stole it. I don't want her to go around telling people that my wife stole her ring if

she can't find it.”

“All right then, let's call the police,” Hugh said with a forced smile. He urged Quincey to make the call.

Just as Quincey was about to call the police, her long-silent assistant suddenly piped up, “I remember now. It seems that Quincey left that ring in the restroom cabinet.”

The assistant hurried off to the restroom, then returned holding a yellow diamond ring.

Johanna looked at the ring in her assistant's hand and suddenly laughed. “How strange. Ms. Hartwell remembered this ring being in a jewelry box, yet you just found it in the restroom.”