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After Mr. Sutton saw her out, he insisted on walking her all the way.

Yvonne Sutton found his behavior strange. Rembering Wyatt Shaw had called him a pervert, she turned to Sandra Sutton. "Could you walk downstairs, please? I wanted to talk to you about Zoe Churchill."

Sandra Sutton didn’t think twice and put her shoes back on.

"Dad, don’t worry about it. I’ll walk Miss Sutton downstairs."

Mr. Sutton gave Yvonne another long, hard look before turning with a grim expression and going into his bedroom.

Mrs. Sutton could see her husband was upset, so she didn’t press Yvonne to stay any longer.

There wasn’t really anything to say about Zoe Churchill, so Yvonne just made up a few things to placate Sandra. Once they were downstairs, Yvonne said her goodbyes to Sandra and walked away quickly.

When she reached the corner, she couldn’t help but look back at the Sutton family’s apartnt, only to see Mr. Sutton standing at the window, staring right at her.

A jolt of unease went through Yvonne, and she quickly hurried away.

Back at the guesthouse, Wyatt Shaw, David Sutton, and Zoe Churchill were sitting around a table. Wyatt and David were drinking, while Zoe had juice. The three of them occasionally clinked their glasses together.

"Little sis, I know this is incredibly unfair to you," David Sutton said, downing his drink. "I’m not going to give you any platitudes, just this: if you run into any trouble down the road, just say the word. We’ll be there to help."

Zoe Churchill took a sip of her juice, returning the toast.

"She was the one who hurt . It has nothing to do with you guys." At this, Zoe looked at Wyatt Shaw. "Mr. Shaw, you don’t owe anything. You don’t have to atone for her sins. Hannah Abbott was the one who owed a debt, and I should have collected from her. But she’s dead, so I can’t collect anymore."

Zoe sighed. It was a grudge she would just have to swallow.

Wyatt Shaw picked up his glass and clinked it against Zoe’s juice cup. "I’m not atoning for her. I’m doing this for myself."

"Like I said, you don’t owe anything."

"I’m the one who brought her into your life." Wyatt drained his glass, his brow furrowing slightly. "If you ever need my help with anything, I’ll do everything in my power."

"Well, if you absolutely insist on feeling indebted to and are determined to help, then don’t wait for ’soday.’ Let’s do it now."

Wyatt imdiately looked at Zoe. "Na it."

"I need to transfer to a hospital in Aethelgard for bed rest. Can you stay here and look after my guesthouse until I co back after the baby is born?"

Wyatt nodded eagerly. "Of course."

"But I hear you’re a busy man."

"Not anymore. My dad kicked out of the family company."

"In that case, I can rest easy. Oh, right. I’ve also made a lot of handicrafts. I used to sell them at the night market, but now I’ll have to ask you to sell them for ."

Wyatt pressed his lips together. "So, you want to run a stall at the night market?"

"Sorry to trouble you."

Seeing the long-suffering, ’reaping-what-you-sow’ look on Wyatt’s face, Yvonne couldn’t help but laugh.

"I can go with you."

He grinned at her words.

"Alright then. I can pretend it’s a date."

The next morning, Wyatt carried the luggage while Yvonne pushed Zoe in her wheelchair. Together, they saw her off in David Sutton’s van.

"Chad Miller and I will take good care of her, so you two can rest easy."

Wyatt nodded. "I’ve already made arrangents in Seacliff. She can move right in."

"Alright, got it."

Zoe waved to them from the van. "I’m leaving my guesthouse in your hands!"

"You just focus on a safe and healthy pregnancy. Leave everything here to us," Yvonne said, patting Zoe’s hand.

As they watched the van drive away, Wyatt put his arm around Yvonne. "Now that I’m in charge of the guesthouse, do you know what my first order of business is?"

"What?"

Half an hour later, the young couple from the westernmost room on the second floor ca downstairs with their luggage. They were furious and looked ready to cause a scene, but then they saw Wyatt. He was lounging in a recliner with his legs crossed, a cigarette dangling from his left hand and a large tal wrench in his right, exuding the nacing air of a local thug.

The mont they saw him, they flinched, paid in full for the items they had damaged, and then scurried away.

Yvonne ca out of the room and nudged Wyatt with her foot. "Don’t run Zoe’s guesthouse into the ground before she even gets back."

"They were a pair of powder kegs, constantly fighting and blowing up. With them around, no other guests dared to check in. Business will be better now that they’re gone."

As they were talking, a group of boys in junior high uniforms rode past on their bikes. Suddenly, one of them threw a string of firecrackers into the yard, and they went off with a series of loud POPS and CRACKLES.

Wyatt swore, grabbed his wrench, and ran out after them, but the boys were already gone.

The noise brought all the other guests running out of their rooms. Yvonne had to explain that it was just a celebration for a special occasion, setting off firecrackers for good luck.

When Wyatt ca back, he said he was going to check the security footage to see which little punk did it.

"I know who it was."

"Who?"

"Sandra Sutton’s brother. He’s a fan of Wendy Winters."

Wyatt wanted to go to the Suttons and tell them to discipline their son, Hugh, but Yvonne stopped him. She had a gut feeling that it was best to keep her distance from the Sutton family. The way Mr. Sutton had looked at her made her extrely uncomfortable.

After dinner, Wyatt and Yvonne went to the night market to set up their stall.

The night market was held in the town square. It wasn’t a large space, but it was bustling, filled with vendors and tourists.

Just as Yvonne and Wyatt were wondering where to set up, Mrs. Sutton spotted them and ca over, tapping Yvonne on the shoulder. When she heard they were running the stall for Zoe, she led them to a spot.

"Here," she said. "Zoe usually sets up right under this tree. My spot is next to hers."

Mrs. Sutton was very helpful and even helped them set up the stall.

Mrs. Sutton was a portrait artist. Since there were no custors at first, she had Yvonne sit down and offered to draw her.

Yvonne didn’t feel she could refuse, so she sat down.

Their stall was attracting a lot of attention. At first, Yvonne thought it was because Zoe’s handicrafts were so beautiful. But then she noticed that all the custors were won, and so were even secretly taking photos of Wyatt with their phones. Only then did she understand the real reason.

Even with all the custors, Wyatt handled it with ease.

"This little rabbit is so cute! How much is it?" a young woman asked.

Wyatt replied, "Sixty-five."

"Can you give a discount, handso?"

Wyatt tapped the sign next to him. It read: NO BARGAINING.

The custor gazed at Wyatt with an infatuated look. "Hey, let’s add each other on WeChat. I’ll send you a big red packet."

Wyatt pushed the QR paynt code forward, then picked up his sign again. Below "NO BARGAINING," he added two more words: "NO HARASSNT."

The custor stared at the newly added words, paid in embarrassnt, and walked away.

Yvonne chuckled and turned to look at Mrs. Sutton, who was sketching away with swift strokes of her brush.

"Is that your husband?" Mrs. Sutton asked.

"Yes."

"Last night, that little brat of mine insisted on ’educating’ all about you and Wendy Winters, even showed all that stuff online. I took one look at your ex-boyfriend, then at your husband, and I told my son straight: ’Why would anyone pass up a gourt feast to eat dog crap? You fans think dog crap slls sweet, but does that an you’ve been eating it too?’"

Yvonne couldn’t help but laugh at that.

"My son refused to admit he was eating crap and kept trying to argue with . In the end, his father gave him a good smack, and that finally shut him up."

Yvonne raised an eyebrow. ’So, his dad beat him up, and he took out his pent-up anger by throwing firecrackers at the guesthouse?’

"Actually, the first ti I saw you, I thought you looked very much like soone I used to know."

Mr. Sutton had said the sa thing. Yvonne thought for a mont before asking, "And who is this person you used to know?"

"Oh, Sandra’s father’s ex-wife."

You are reading He Proposed to His First Love, So I Married His Archenemy Chapter 120: Night Market Stall on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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