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CHAPTER 105. FRACTURED PRIDE

As the knife was passed around for guests to take turns cutting the cake, the guy snatched it and, with a smug grin, gestured toward Oliver.

“Hey, why don’t you cut a slice for everyone?” he said loudly, his tone dripping with mockery. "Or maybe that’s not something you’re used to, seeing as you probably have someone do it for you."

The crowd’s laughter was awkward, a few people glancing uncomfortably between Oliver and the man. It was a subtle but deliberate attempt to embarrass Oliver, positioning him as someone out of place, too refined or detached to even do something simple like cutting a cake.

Anita, who had been standing nearby, immediately sensed what was happening. Her eyes darted between Oliver and the guy, realizing the malicious intent behind the gesture.

Without hesitation, she stepped forward, her expression sharp as she intercepted the knife before Oliver could respond.

“Oh, I think Oliver’s done enough for the night,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through the tens
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