“Seriously. Not only is their family bankrupt, but she’s also so dramatic and arrogant. She’s not even worthy of shining Mr. Ferguson's shoes.”
“Claudia’s only got a pretty face and a body that drives men wild. Think about it, how many of those women who marry into rich families for their looks ever have a happy ending?”
...
A low murmur of discussion spread through the group.
A few of the younger girls looked like they were ready to set off fireworks to celebrate.
York stood his ground, his dark eyes fixed on the crowd before him.
He waited until the chatter died down before speaking slowly. “Claudia is my future wife. For you to slander her like this in front of me—do you think I’m dead?”
The moment York spoke, the color drained from their faces. They scrambled to apologize.
“We’re so sorry, Mr. Ferguson. We were just talking.”
“Exactly, we were just joking.”
“We’re all friends here. If it bothers you, Mr. Ferguson, we’ll be more careful in the future.”
...
York’s cold gaze swept over each of them. “It’s fine.”
He would make them learn their lesson.
Under everyone’s watchful eyes, York got into his car and drove away.
After he left, Peter stepped in to smooth things over. “The usual spot tonight. My treat.”
The crowd instantly cheered up.
After ushering everyone away, Peter pulled Darleen into his car.
Seeing the gossipy look on his face, Darleen couldn’t help but ask, “Peter, what’s the rush? Are you trying to get reincarnated?”
With one hand on the steering wheel, Peter reached over and playfully squeezed Darleen’s neck. “Watch your mouth. If you don’t give me a proper apology today, I’m throwing you in a ditch.”
Darleen opened her purse and pulled out an eyebrow razor. Peter immediately let go.
She grabbed Peter’s hand, holding the razor to his wrist. “Tell me where you’re taking me, or I’ll let you bleed out.”
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