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With great difficulty, Angelo walked out of the fitting room. He was like a drunk man who was walking towards Mark’s mother. When Angelo was near the spot- where the gorgeous tigress was sitting; Angelo almost tripped and fell face flat- on the ground. He was lucky that he was able to gain balance just before he would fall.

“Everything is perfect except for the way you walk,” Mark’s mother commented while touching her chin as if she was carefully studying the features of her daughter-in-law.

“Can’t I wear some flats instead of these f*ck*ng d*mn shoes that have thin heels? It looks like a weapon for digging a hole in a person’s skull rather than some comfortable footwear.” Angelo let out his grievance in front of Mark’s mother while stomping the heels on the floor.

“Language, my dear, and no, you can’t wear flats.”

“Why?”

“Just because I said so.” With a smirk on her face, Mark’s mother then asked the boutique shop to wrap the clothes that her