The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage

Gene's joke left Walter pursing his lips.

Staring at the streaks of white hair above Gene's sideburns, he threw up his hands. "Surely you're joking, Mr. Pearce? We've yet to repay your grace for establishing ourselves in Riverton." "Oh, it's really nothing."

Gene smiled, waving him off as he sat down beside Walter. "So, how is Vicky doing? Has she recovered?"

"Yes, she has." Walter quickly nodded.

Gene nodded and sighed in admiration. "Well, Mr. Lawrence really excels in both martial arts and medicine—there's no malady he can't cure. The man even snatched my dying self away from the reaper's grasp."

The bookie nearby seized his opportunity right then, asking, "Sir, may I interest you in a bet? The most favorable odds are how many strikes that mysterious martial elite would last against Jaden Favoni."

The bookie was certainly sharply-knowing that those seated in the front row were all rich or powerful, it was the right choice to ask them to make bets. They would make a fortune either way!

However, one of Gene's bodyguards strode up, shoving the peddling bookie backward. "Stand back! Don't you see you're talking to Mr. Gene Pearce?!"

"W-What?!"

The bookie almost wet himself right then-that kindly balding middle-aged man was actually Gene Pearce, the richest man on the East Coast?!

The spectators around them were at once thrilled.

"Shit, even Gene Pearce himself is here to watch the fight!"

"I thought he said in a TV interview that he despised the physical disputes of martial artists and preferred reasoning things out?"

"You're dumb. Did you think he became the richest man on the East Coast by avoiding bloodshed?"

Still, everyone's words did not seem to affect Gene.

He was even beckoning at the bookie, asking interestingly, "What's this about the bets you mentioned?"

"O-Oh! Well, you see, Mr. Pearce..."

The bookie actually flinched in

surprise after all, this was Geneet

Pearce, the richest man on the East Coast, and a man some people

could only dream of meeting!Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

Stammering a little, he said, "Well, you see, the Favonis are collaborating with our modest enterprise to set up these bets."

"The three most popular ones... I mean, four," the bookie corrected himself as he glanced at Walter nearby, "are for Jaden Favoni to win in ten strikes, fifty strikes, ora hundred strikes."

The bookie was so nervous he completely forgot about the fourth bet started by Walter with a whopping five million dollars, even though he just mentioned it.

"Hmm...?"

Gene scowled to no surprise, his reaction no different from Walter's. "What about the fourth?"

"Oh, right! The fourth!"

The bookie was taken aback and quickly stammered, "W-Well, the gentleman beside you started a fourth bet for the mysterious martial elite to win. He's the only one who made that bet so far..."

An awkward look showed on the bookie's face the bet would not exist at all if not for Walter.

Still, Gene was sharp enough to tell what everyone else was thinking.

No one believed Frank could win, and the odds were stacked to an impossible height against him.

And anyone who bet on him was basically suffering brain damage in their eyes!