Tyrone’s smile froze for a moment. Well, he was scolded.
He shamelessly remarked, “Don’t worry, that bastard will apologize to you when he gets back.”
Quintessa rolled her eyes, “An apology? I couldn’t care less about that, unless you give me a kiss.”
Mrs. York eavesdropped on their conversation. As soon as she heard Quintessa’s words, she immediately said, “Hey, little troublemaker, this is Serena’s coming-of-age celebration. Don’t create a scene here. Making a scene at home might be excusable, but not outside.”
Mrs. York had just finished speaking when her son lifted Quintessa’s chin and gave her a peck, “Be good, no more pouting.”
Mrs. York pointed at them, “Great, you two are ganging up to annoy me.”
Quintessa shook Mrs. York's arm playfully, “Come on, Auntie. You should be happy seeing us this in love. This way, you might get to spoil your grandkids sooner rather than later.”
Mrs. York snorted but didn't pull her arm away.
The three of them behaved like a close-knit family, leaving Rachel feeling like an outsider, invisible and ignored.
Jealousy and anger flared within her. Everything Quintessa had should have been hers.
Tyrone was supposed to be hers, and Mrs. York was supposed to be kind to her, but Quintessa had stolen it all.
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