Rachel raised an eyebrow. She didn't imdiately confirm she was Rachel, instead asking, "Are you looking for her for sothing?"
Floyd observed Rachel closely, a hint of puzzlent in his eyes. The girl was indeed petite, not very tall, and quite slender. She appeared even more diminutive in his presence. His height was similar to the Young Master's. No wonder Madam Ruiz had dismissed her with a single glance.
Her features were ordinary—not ugly. But girls like her were a di a dozen; turn your head on the street, and most girls looked just like her, with nothing particularly outstanding. Her eyes, however, were very bright, like two sparkling black pearls. What kind of family was the Ruiz Family? A girl like her, with no family background and ordinary looks, probably wouldn't be able to enter the gates of the Ruiz Family, even with the Young Master's special favor.
Floyd sighed inwardly. It seems getting the Young Master to return to the Ruiz Family will be difficult.
"If you are Miss Rachel, please co with . My madam is waiting to see you at the Emperor hotel," Floyd said mildly, then turned and walked towards the car. Rachel hadn't answered directly, so he offered no further explanation. By stating the reason, he expected her to admit her identity.
His madam? Who could his madam be?
Rachel hurried after Floyd, stopping him just before he got into the car. "Sir, may I ask who your madam is?" she asked curiously. "Why does she want to see ?"
She had indirectly answered Floyd's earlier question.
"My madam is Young Master Hansen Ruiz's mother." As Floyd said this, his eyes grew exceptionally sharp. He stared intently at Rachel, trying to discern her thoughts and determine if she was soone who coveted the Ruiz Family's wealth and power.
Floyd was disappointed.
Hearing it was Hansen's mother, and that Floyd called Hansen "Young Master," Rachel imdiately guessed Hansen's family background was indeed not simple. To be called "Young Master" ant his family was considerably wealthy. That damned guy! He talked about wanting to build a bridge to my path, yet he never even told his real identity. What kind of bridge was he talking about? I don't want to climb such an overpass! If it's poorly built and collapses, wouldn't I be smashed to bits?
"Sir, I'm sorry. Hansen and I are just ordinary friends. I don't think there's any need for to et your madam," Rachel said. I'm not a fool. How could I not guess this kind of plot, so common in TV dramas? The Ruiz Family must know about Hansen's feelings for . Mrs. Ruiz is probably here to get rid of , and she'll likely spout a load of nonsense about not being good enough. I haven't even agreed to date Hansen. I don't want to listen to that kind of forced nonsense.
Rachel turned and started to walk away. She wanted nothing to do with any person or matter connected to Hansen.
"Miss Rachel, my madam is a person who never gives up until she achieves her goal," Floyd said coolly as she turned, without trying to stop her.
The aning was clear: Rachel could avoid eting Mrs. Ruiz today, but Mrs. Ruiz would keep bothering her every day until she agreed to et.
Rachel stopped. Hansen's perpetually grinning, lecherous face floated into her mind. Involuntarily, she also recalled his kindness to her, and his domineering, forceful kiss. Fine. Since his mother has co looking for , what's the harm in eting her? Anyway, I have a clear conscience. I wouldn't be afraid even if I had to et the King of Heaven himself! It's not like I'm the one pestering Hansen; he's the one pestering !
Without another word, she turned, got into the luxury sedan, and let Floyd take her to the Emperor hotel.
Mrs. Ruiz had booked a rather luxurious suite at the Emperor hotel as her temporary lodging. The journey had tired her a little.
Currently, she was lounging on the sofa, leisurely manicuring her nails. Her well-maintained face still held traces of her youthful beauty, and her entire deanor exuded an imposing, noble aura. When Floyd brought Rachel in, Mrs. Ruiz glanced up at her coldly. Her eyes were full of disapproval, even disgust. Rachel hated that kind of look, as if she were so sort of disreputable woman.
I don't steal, I don't rob, and I don't sell my body. What right does Mrs. Ruiz have to look at with disgust the mont she sees ?
What angered Rachel even more was when Mrs. Ruiz pushed a bottle of nail polish in front of her and ordered, in a tone one would use with a servant, "You're just in ti. Apply my nail polish for ."
Rachel stood up straight. Mrs. Ruiz hadn't invited her to sit, and she didn't want to sit down on her own initiative, lest she be accused of having no manners. Hearing Mrs. Ruiz's words, Rachel thought, Even if Mrs. Ruiz is well-maintained, she must be nearly sixty, right? Why is she still using nail polish? However, when she considered that rich people always found ways to spend money on making themselves beautiful, she no longer found it strange. Follow current novᴇls on novel·fiɾe·net
When Mrs. Ruiz asked her to apply the nail polish, Rachel's expression remained calm, concealing the fury simring in her heart. She smiled faintly and replied with a hint of apology, "Madam, I'm sorry, I don't know how."
Even if she knew how, she wouldn't do it for Mrs. Ruiz. She was not Mrs. Ruiz's servant.
"True. A woman from the countryside wouldn't have the ti or money for such things. You're Rachel, aren't you? Do you know how much this nail polish of mine costs? Your parents probably couldn't earn the money for this bottle even if they fard for a whole year." Mrs. Ruiz took back the nail polish and began applying it herself with elegant movents. A gentle smile, which made her look sowhat like Hansen, remained on her well-maintained face. Outwardly, Mrs. Ruiz appeared to be a dignified and noble lady from a prestigious family, but the words that ca from her mouth were always tinged with ridicule, mocking Rachel's lowly birth.
Rachel's impression of Hansen's mother had thoroughly soured. So what if she's wealthy? Does that give her the right to bully for being from the countryside? And to look down on farrs like that? Don't rich people need to eat? Are they supposed to eat money?
"Yes, Madam, you are rich," Rachel replied, her voice even. "But no matter how rich you are, you still have to eat the rice grown by country folk. You can't eat money instead of food, can you?"
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