Ella Weaver isn't a brainless person. She saw that Connor's face indeed showed no trace of fear, realizing that he truly wasn't afraid of her, not because he was unaware of Christopher Weaver's reputation.
She was so angry that she nearly ground her teeth to dust, yet she restrained her temper, turned around, and left.
Alice and the others hurriedly followed her.
"Ella, don't you want the pearl shoes anymore? Their styles are the prettiest, the pearls are the finest, and weren't you planning to wear them to the party?"
"Not buying them today, maybe another day. I have sothing to do, I'm leaving first!"
Ella, having lost face due to Connor, felt both embarrassed and annoyed; she had no mood to buy any pearl shoes.
But she didn't curse Connor, because it wouldn't relieve her anger and would only lower her dignity!
She, as the proud heiress of the Weaver Family, how could she argue with a dog, losing her status!
The one she wants to take revenge on is Isabella Weaver!
Hearing the term "Young Madam" from Connor's mouth, she was filled with jealousy, desperately wanting to run ho and complain to Christopher Weaver.
Ella, with a sullen face, went to the parking lot, just in ti to see Isabella Weaver and Harry Hunter getting into a car.
Maybach!
Isabella Weaver was actually sitting in a Maybach!
She even saw, through the glass, Harry Hunter leaning over to thoughtfully fasten Isabella Weaver's seatbelt!
Ella dread of having a boyfriend like this, but such a handso, wealthy, considerate, and domineering man actually belonged to Isabella Weaver!
She felt her sanity collapsing, her jealousy burning more intensely, her hands trembling!
She couldn't wait another mont!
Ella started her rcedes sports car and drove straight to the Weaver Family villa.
Isabella Weaver sat in Harry Hunter's car, watching Ella's car whizz past them, and couldn't help but frown slightly.
She's probably going back ho to see Christopher Weaver.
She regretted impulsively saying Harry Hunter was her boyfriend. Things seed to be getting out of control; the fake boyfriend was becoming real!
She was like soone on the brink of dying of thirst, drinking a sip of poison to quench her thirst, only to get poisoned, needing to keep drinking to avoid succumbing to the poison.
Yet Harry Hunter, this bottle of "poison," seed unaware; he cheerfully fastened her seatbelt, adjusted the seatback angle to make her more comfortable, then took her for a ride along the seaside.
The car played soothing light music, making Isabella Weaver's mood relax as well.
If it's poison, so be it; at least for now, it doesn't seem lethal.
"Mr. Hunter, I have sothing to do, can you drop off by the roadside?"
"What business?"
Isabella Weaver hesitated for a mont but didn't hide it: "I make a living by painting. I had an appointnt with a gallery owner to paint today."
"Address, I'll take you there."
"No need."
"Address," Harry Hunter calmly repeated, his tone carrying an undeniable authority. In such cold weather, does she expect to get out and walk or take the bus?
Isabella Weaver reluctantly gave an address.
On the road, she couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Hunter, don't you have any work to do lately?"
Harry Hunter slightly raised an eyebrow, was this girl saying he was too free?
"Why, are you very concerned about my work?"
Isabella Weaver nonchalantly said, "Yeah, I'm afraid I'm taking up too much of your ti, delaying your work."
"Solving this problem is not hard."
"Is that so?"
"My most important job right now is to get married. Once you marry , I won't follow you around anymore."
Isabella Weaver suddenly shut her mouth, pretending she didn't ask anything!
This man really couldn't go three sentences without ntioning marriage!
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