Married First, Loved Later : A Flash Marriage with My Ex's 'Uncle' Chapter 550: Thanks in Advance

Selina was stunned.

It was Logan who had rejected Paula. It was Logan who had mocked Paula. And yet in the end, Paula put all the bla on her? What kind of twisted logic was that?

Paula kept crying. "If it weren’t for you, I would’ve married Brother Logan a long ti ago!"

Selina almost laughed out loud. A duke’s daughter, and her biggest dream in life was just to marry Logan? Was sothing wrong with her head?

Logan’s gaze was icy. "There are no ifs."

Then he turned to Miller Butler. "Miller, please show them out."

The mont Paula heard she was about to be thrown out, she panicked. She shot Alia a desperate look.

Alia put on the act of a caring, thoughtful mother. "If Logan doesn’t want a divorce, then so be it. But Paula ca all this way—she’s still a guest. Surely letting her stay here at Sapphire Valley Villa for a while isn’t too much to ask?"

Alia sighed. "Selina, you’re a woman too. Put yourself in her shoes. If you were deeply in love with soone you couldn’t have, wouldn’t you also feel hurt? Paula only wants to stay near Logan for a while. Be understanding—don’t be so childish."

Selina lifted her gaze. "And why should I put myself in Miss Paula’s shoes?"

"Because—"

"The one who should be putting herself in Paula’s shoes... is you, Mrs. Perry."

Selina nodded, her words laced with aning, then added softly, "After all..."

She didn’t finish the sentence, but everyone seed to understand.

Yes—after all... everyone present knew exactly how Alia had risen to her current position.

And now Miss Paula—first demanding Logan divorce Selina, then demanding to move into his ho—was treating Selina as if she didn’t exist.

Wasn’t that exactly how Alia had once boldly moved into Anna and Daniel’s ho?

Paula, too, suddenly understood Selina’s insinuation, and gnashed her teeth. "How dare you insult ?"

Selina widened her eyes in mock surprise. "Insult you? Not at all. I rely thought Miss Paula and Mrs. Perry got along so well, which is why I said Mrs. Perry was the one who could truly empathize with you. Why would you take that as an insult? Unless..."

Her voice shifted, sharp as a blade. "Unless you also think Alia rose to power as a mistress, immoral and unworthy of being compared to you?"

...

...

Everyone: "..."

Alia nearly fainted from fury, while Paula finally realized she had walked right into Selina’s trap!

"You—you..." Paula stamred in rage before shouting shalessly, "I’m staying here no matter what! What can you do about it? This isn’t even your house—it’s Brother Logan’s!"

Selina clicked her tongue twice. "What can I do? Nothing. If you want to stay, stay. I won’t stop you."

Even Alia was puzzled. Since when had Selina beco so agreeable?

Then Logan’s voice cut in. "If Selina doesn’t mind, I do. Miller."

Miller Butler stepped forward. "Mrs. Perry, Miss Paula—this way, please."

Paula had just been elated by Selina’s apparent agreent, but now, hearing Logan’s order, her eyes went wide. "Selina agreed!"

Logan’s tone was cool. "And what of it? Selina’s agreent doesn’t matter. I don’t agree. After all, this is my house, not hers."

Selina: "..." Hahaha!

The other servants nearly burst out laughing, struggling to hold it in.

Paula suddenly realized she had fallen into yet another trap—Logan had turned her own words against her!

She was so furious she could almost cry. She was the duke’s daughter, worshiped like a star in Country Y. How could this be happening?

And Selina—a re "commoner"—dared to treat her like this? Ahhh!

Paula was on the verge of madness, furious and fuming with rage. "Just you wait—wait and see! Fine, Selina, you won’t agree? Then I’ll be waiting for your twenty billion!"

"I won’t back out of the wager either. We’ll keep it as is. I’ll be waiting to see you hand over twenty billion, lose everything, and crawl in defeat. I’ll be waiting!"

With that, Paula spun around angrily and stord toward the door.

"Miss Paula."

Selina’s voice suddenly rang out, calm and cool. She lifted her gaze, her expression unchanged, yet carrying a chilling pressure that made others instinctively submit.

She said, "Thank you in advance."

Paula, still in a fury, didn’t understand. Thank her—for what?

Selina didn’t elaborate. She only smiled. "See them out."

This ti, Butler Miller didn’t bother with politeness. He summoned the villa’s security and had the four of them thrown out directly.

Only when the cold wind hit her outside did Paula’s mind finally clear enough to process Selina’s words—

Thank you in advance.

Thank you in advance for giving your twenty billion.

—No!

Paula ground her teeth so hard her jaw ached.

How could Selina be so confident? Country Y’s perfurs were unmatched. Selina was nothing but a clown setting herself up for humiliation!

She wouldn’t just make Selina lose—she’d ruin her completely, strip her of all dignity!

Paula’s eyes flickered with calculation. She quickly dialed Ronald. "Do a favor. When the finals co, investigate Selina’s perfu..."

...

After the group was driven out, Selina went to the dining room and had a few bites of breakfast. Then, as if struck by a thought, she asked, "Are you certain Alia once saved Paula’s life?"

To be honest, with how Alia acted—mocked by Paula yet still swallowing her pride—it didn’t add up to the role of a supposed lifesaver.

It wasn’t that every benefactor demanded repaynt, but Alia’s personality wasn’t one to humble herself. If she had truly saved Paula’s life, if she were the duke’s honored guest, she would see herself as superior. She would believe Paula’s life belonged to her.

And even if reality forced Alia to flatter Paula, her eyes would still carry scorn. Because in Alia’s "savior" mindset, Paula’s life was hers—so how could she ever cower before her?

Sothing didn’t feel right to Selina.

Logan answered with a low hum. "That’s what the records say. Even the duke confird Paula had known Alia since childhood."

Selina clicked her tongue. Had she overthought it?

Maybe Alia’s tolerance was simply because Paula belonged to the royal family of Country Y?

Shaking the thought away, Selina didn’t bother to dwell on it. She glanced at the clock. "The finals begin next week."

The finalist list had already been announced. Out of a thousand semifinalists, only fifty remained.

Of those fifty, only eight were from Country M. The other forty-two were all from Country Y.

Selina frowned slightly. "The ratio seems off. I noticed it in the semifinals, but now it’s even more outrageous."

Most outsiders would simply shrug and say, Country Y is the land of perfu. Their perfurs are naturally better than ours.

But Logan’s eyes turned cold. He didn’t answer her question—he only said, "Once this perfu convention is over, I’ll host a separate one in Country M."