For a moment, she hesitated, then turned to the chef and said, “Make two more dishes he usually eats. Set three places for dinner.”
Inside the guest room, I opened my luggage, only to find that my clothes had been slashed to shreds.
Thankfully, the passport and documents I’d tucked deep inside were still intact.
As I began to gather my things and prepare to leave, Knox suddenly blocked the door.
With a black bottle in hand, he looked me up and down with a sneer.
“Milo, I didn’t think you could be this shameless. You’ve become the laughingstock of the entire upper circle, publicly humiliated by me, and you still haven’t left?”
He scoffed, his eyes full of disdain.
“Then again, your old grandma from the Thatcher family passed away last month. Without that big backer, of course, you’re clinging to Miss Deveraux like she’s your only lifeline.”
A thought seemed to amuse him, and he grinned.
“Milo, remember the day you begged and cried for Miss Deveraux to send you to the hospital by helicopter just to see your grandma one last time? Do you know why she didn’t go?”
“Because she had already promised to watch the sunset with me at the beach.”
He held up his phone, showing me a photo.