Chapter 87
“What’s so funny?” George’s face darkened at her lack of immediate compliance.
Yvonne set down her silverware. The smell of seafood was overpowering, but the non-seafood options were actually quite good. It was a shame the Spencers had no intention of letting her eat in peace.
“I’m laughing at you,” Yvonne said, her gaze dripping with scorn as she looked at George. “A cheating scumbag who parades around pretending to be a loving husband. You’re not much to look at, but you certainly have beautiful dreams. Why on earth would I give you my money p>
“You insolent brat, shut your mouth!” George roared, slamming his wine glass on the table.
“Yvonne, how can you talk to Dad like that? He’s only trying to help you. He’s worried you’ll come into money and waste it all,” Queena said, her eyes wide with feigned disappointment.
“You’ve truly disappointed us, Yvonne,” Teresa added, clutching her chest dramatically.
Jeffrey glared at her, looking as though he wanted to devour her whole.
Beside her, young Joseph, who apparently had a short memory when it came to beatings, threw his silverware at her dress. “Get out of my house, you bitch!” he screamed.
Yvonne looked down at the two grease stains on her skirt and her patience snapped. She shot out her foot and kicked Joseph squarely in the backside. He went sprawling, wailing at the top of his lungs.
“Joseph!” Teresa cried, pulling her youngest into her arms and turning on Yvonne with accusatory eyes. “Last time you hit your brother, you denied it. This time, we all saw you. Are you going to lie again? If I had known you were this heartless, I never would have brought you back p>
“When Jeffrey hits me, it’s a brother disciplining his sister, perfectly
“1 ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by.net
acceptable Yvonne sneered. “But
when’t discipline Joseph, it’s a crime against humanity. The hypocrisy in this family is astounding p>
“You little ani
animal,
how dare you talk back! I’ll beat you to death myself
and stop you from tearing this
family apart!” George raised his hand to strike her, but before it could land,
a housemaid led a man into the room.
He was tall, with a cool, aristocratic air.
“This gentleman says he’s looking for Ms. Jones,” the maid announced.
“Mr. Bennett Thompson!” Teresa gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief.
Bennett was notoriously private; few people even within the military knew his true identity. He had earned his rank through his own merit. Teresa, however, hailed from the James family, a prominent clan in Istra second only to the immensely wealthy Thompsons. As a woman who had married out she wasn’t highly regarded, but her family name had granted her the rare opportunity to meet the Thompson heir on two occasions.
“Mr. Bennett Thompson! What an honor to have you in our humble home,” George said, his face instantly transforming into a mask of fawning sycophancy.
Queena stood beside him, silent but angling her body to present her best side to Bennett, her eyes wide and demure.
But Bennett seemed not to see them. His cool gaze landed on Yvonne. “Are you ready to go p>
“Yes,” she nodded.
Under the stunned gazes of the entire Spencer family, she walked out of the villa with him.