“Hopefully, someone around here will finally understand the gap between us and obediently sign those agreements. After all, the line of men who want to marry into my family could wrap around the entire city.”
She shot me a look full of smug implication.
I rolled my eyes like I was looking at a pair of idiots. “Phoebe, do yourself a favor and find out who actually spent that five hundred thousand before you start accusing people. Otherwise, yeah—you’re right, people trying to drain your bank account really do stretch around New York.”
Blake visibly flinched, and tears started streaming down his face, this time with less performance and more panic.
Phoebe rushed to console him, flustered.
I’d had enough of their public display of twisted affection. My voice cut in, as I spat coldly, “Since you care so much about your employees, Miss Wright, I assume you’ll be the one compensating for that one hundred twenty million vase?”
She raised her foot and aimed to stomp the broken pieces even further.
“A fake like that? You expect me to pay for it? What, feeling heartbroken now? Didn’t you claim it was authentic? Didn’t you say you were rich? Then go buy another one!”