Chapter 320

"I just want to make it up to you. Maybe there's something I can help with." Julian Roscente arched a confident brow. His resources far surpassed that Adrian Klein guy.

Sophia Laurent studied him with skeptical amusement.

"You really want to discuss business with me?"

"Obviously. What's that look for? Underestimating me?"

Her gaze swept over him again.

The Roscente family topped Boston's elite circles, leagues above the Kleins.

And this man didn't even retaliate when slapped—at least his surface manners were impeccable.

Sure, his playboy reputation preceded him, but she wasn't looking for a husband.

Most importantly, he had a clean break policy with exes—no messy attachments.

The more Sophia considered it, the more pleased she became.

"Fine. Shall we talk inside?"

Julian scoffed. "Who's afraid?"

A crimson smile curved her lips.

"What are you waiting for? Let's go." She tugged his tie.

"Cough!" He stumbled.

Since when did women get so rough?

......

Margaret Evans only moped for two days after losing her grandchild.

Not having to cater to that Chloe Valentine wretch actually felt liberating.

She resumed her leisurely high-society life effortlessly.

That afternoon, the ladies gathered for tea.

Amid premium floral blends and delicate pastries, Margaret perched elegantly on a leather sofa in her latest designer ensemble.

"Mrs. Evans, you seem tired lately? Family troubles?"

Mrs. Cardenas smiled sweetly, dimples flashing.

Margaret's grin stiffened momentarily before brightening.

"Probably the summer heat affecting my sleep."

"Really?" Mrs. Cardenas arched a knowing brow.

Everyone knew about her scandal—a pregnant daughter-in-law hospitalized after miscarriage, while she couldn't be bothered to visit.

"Skin can be treated, but a rotten heart? That's incurable."

The barb wasn't lost on Margaret, yet she dared not retort.

"It's stuffy here. I need air." She rose gracefully.

The moment she left, whispers erupted.

"Pathetic act."

"Of course she can't sleep after causing a miscarriage."

"Serves her right! Who treats a girl like that?"

Margaret reached the lobby, about to summon a server, when raised voices caught her attention.

"No appointment, no entry!"

"Screw appointments! I'm here for someone—move!"