CH 1.2

Sure enough, just when he finished his words, Carl Williams, the man who had just been splashed a glass of wine, shouted, “You bullshit artist! I know Patric Spencer. Do you want me to call him and ask if you are his sister? Everyone knows Spencer’s family doesn’t have a daughter.”

A trendy man standing aside thought for a moment and said hesitatingly, “I was told that Spencer’s family had an adopted daughter, who was the fiancee of the eldest son. It is said he might marry her during this time coming back abroad.”

Carl’s face changed instantly. “Are you the fiancee of Wilfred Spencer?” He asked tentatively, decreasing most of his aggressiveness.

Wilfred, who was in the booth next door, wrinkled a little bit. Simon froze his smile too. He had never seen anyone dare to deceive to be Wilfred’s family.

Everyone was waiting for Rora’s reply. Her friends anxiously pulled at her, “Rora, tell them.”

Simon heard a sound like “Lollia” and stopped smiling. He turned to ask Wilfred, “Lollia? Or Lorra? Is that your child bride’s name? I couldn’t remember.”

Wilfred fixed his eyes on the girl again. Rora was more embarrassed. She stood there perplexedly and dared not to admit or deny it.

Simon was confused. Looking at Wilfred’s darker face, he asked again, “Help her?”

“No.” Wilfred withdrew his sight and replied coldly.

Simon’s face became subtle. He and Wilfred were friends since childhood and  went abroad to study together. But he returned home several years earlier than Wilfred. Simon knew Wilfred better than anyone else. He cared nothing about irrelevant person even if that guy knelt in front of him begging. But to those who had a little connection with him, he wouldn’t rescue him to avoid suffering in front of so many people. So the only possibility was that the girl was talking big.

Carl connected the video call of Patric Spencer and showed Rora with his phone camera, “Hello Patric, this girl says she’s from your family. Do you know her?”

Patric slightly squinted his eyes and said with a sneering: “No.”

“…” Before Rora could say something, the video call was cut off.

Carl raised his hand and slapped Rora. Just before his hand could land on Rora’s face, his arm was pulled forcefully and he was thrown heavily on the tea table. He felt dizzy in his eyes and pain in his waist.

It happened within seconds. When Carl covered his waist and withdrew his mind, he saw a petite girl standing in front of him. The girl was in a khaki overalls and carried backpack. Her hair was cut to her ears. Her round eyes exposed an inviolable air, which was valiant and elegant.

Carl couldn’t imagine how the girl lifted him just now.

Then the screams of other women awoke Rora a little bit from drunken. She hugged the girl’s arm and said in an aggrieved voice, “Call butler Luis and ask him to send someone over.”

Lorry Moore shook her off aloofly. Carl was completely angry and shouted at them: “You are boastful. Call for help from the Spencers? You can’t leave here even if you call God!”

Suddenly, the petite figure flashed behind him fast. Lolly smashed a wine bottle on the coffee table, putting the sharp end on Carl’s face.

People in the two booths were instantly silent. Carl, who was shouting seconds ago,  was stiff on his body and felt blood flowing backward. He looked at Lorry out of the side of his eyes with horror and asked angrily, “What are you doing?”

Seeing lots of men rushing over, Lorry didn’t panic at all. The lights of the club flashed across her face from time to time, making her like a ghost in the shadow. Her lips curled up and smiled scornfully. Her glance could frighten all the guests.

The visual effect was very striking. Her petite figure, the broken bottle in her hand and the fearless and arrogant eyes had constructed a powerful deterrent, which kept off the men who planned to help outer of the sofas.

Seeing the men dared not to come closer, Lorry lowered her eyes and said to Carl with a flat and emotionless voice, “You have two choices, get out of here, or, get out of here with a broken face!”

“???”