Classic Novel
Chapter 132
Dropping over 2 grand on desserts, and pocketing a cool 7 grand plus; not a bad deal, but Lizetta’s heart was filled with a bitter taste.
Back in the day, she was all in as a diligent clerk, and the dessert place she picked, LR, was chosen after taste–testing a bunch of them.
She wanted to treat his guests right, so he could have smoother sailing at work and a more pleasant negotiation atmosphere. But in the end, her thoughtfulness was just used by him to curry favor with his sweetheart.
Seeing that he wasn’t going to play ball today, Lizetta didn’t want to stick around. She grabbed the divorce papers and went to pull open the car door. Just before stepping out, she threw out a casual remark.
“Mr. Dashiell, so concerned about Evelina yet refusing to divorce, you aren’t scared I’ll screw around with the desserts and off Evelina’s kid?”
As she reached for the door, a heavy force clamped down on her shoulder. Lizetta was yanked back into the seat with a jerk. She frowned, turned her head, and met Remington’s icy glare. ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .
“I dare you!”
The guy was clearly hitting the roof, the grip on Lizetta’s shoulder almost losing control. Pain spread from her shoulder, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her heart.
Yet, Lizetta just laughed, “What wouldn’t I dare? You said it yourself; I’m Mrs. Dashiell. The legit wife taking care of the mistress’s kid is only natural. Or should I keep the little bastard around and be Zion City’s laughing stock?”
Remington’s eyes sharpened, twitching at her words.
“Shut up, that child isn’t a bastard!”
Lizetta felt like her throat was stuffed with waterlogged cotton, unable to make a sound, just stubbornly staring him down.
Silence fell in the car. Until Remington sneered and let go, “Lizetta, you’re wicked. All this just to get a divorce?”
Suddenly, he snatched the divorce papers from her hands. He moved so fast that the edge of the paper sliced a small cut across Lizetta’s palm.
Fine, I’ll sign. But don’t regret it!”
He grabbed a pen from the glove compartment, signed his name, and tossed it onto Lizetta,
“3 million, in a month, and don’t give me any dirty or stinking money with a shady history!”
Lizetta was stunned, frozen until the man barked at her again, “Get lost before I change my mind!”
Snapping back to reality, Lizetta grabbed the papers and stumbled out of the car.
The man sat in the car, watching her clutch the divorce papers like a prized possession, running faster than a rabbit, and disappearing in a blink.
Lizetta left the parking lot, her pace slowing down, her back slick with cold sweat, exhausted as if after a battle.
She flipped open the divorce papers, staring at Remington’s signature. He had signed with such force that he punctured the paper in two places, his anger evident.
He still cared about Evelina and her child, couldn’t bear Evelina facing even a hint of threat, and had signed Immediately upon hearing they could be harmed. How ironic.
Top floor, CEO’s office.
When Remington entered, Evelina got up from the sofa, “Remi, why didn’t Lizetta come up? I hope I haven’t disturbed you guys again; sorry, I didn’t know she was here.”
Her expression was apologetic and tense, but Remington didn’t look at her, walking straight to his desk to sit down, succinctly asking, “What is it?”
Evelina could read between the lines, “If it’s nothing important, beat it.”
She clutched her purse, reluctant to leave like this but noting his foul mood. She approached the desk, placing a few invitations on it.
“My solo concert is the day after tomorrow, and I’d like to invite your whole family to come. Here are the