Nelson's remark was like a slap to Sabrina's face. She froze as a hush fell across the room.
Abigail was the first to snap out of it. "Fuck you, Nelso—"
Ronaldo hurriedly covered her mouth to avoid any trouble.
Sabrina collected herself and flashed a nonchalant smile at everyone. She explained calmly, "Mrs. Tucker is my godmother. He is indeed my brother."
At this point, she had braced herself mentally for such situations. She wouldn't feel sad over it.
Still, everyone was doubtful of her remark.
Ronaldo, who thought Nelson was too much, refused to salvage Nelson's relationship. He sided with Sabrina instead. "The Tuckers will host a party on Saturday. Those who are single are welcome to attend."
Gerald looked delighted upon learning the news. "Nelson, I'm confident in winning over Sabrina as long as you're not my competitor."
Nelson took a drag. His expression was shrouded behind the smoke. He mumbled, "Is that so?"
"Of course!" Then, Gerald ran over to Sabrina and beamed at her. "Sabrina, what's your type?"
"Uh…" She hesitated.
"She needs someone who's responsive, attentive to her mood, and just nice to her overall," Abigail rattled off between gritted teeth while staring at Sabrina.
Gerald nodded. "I can do that."
The music resumed, covering their conversations. Sabrina, her gaze lowered, chatted with Gerald while sipping on the glass of milk on the table.
She might come across as pretentious for drinking milk at a club, but everything about her was beautifully paradoxical. Her open-back sweater that revealed her tiny waist accentuated her innocence and sexiness.
Justin Cromwell, Nelson's childhood friend, noticed Nelson staring at Sabrina with an increasingly deep scowl. He came up to Nelson and remarked, "Why? Do you finally care to pay attention to that lovely wife of yours?"
Nelson glanced at him. "That's impossible."
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