Celestial Queen: Revenge Is Sweet When You’re A Zillionaire Heiress

Chapter 1700:

Errol curled his lips into a faint smirk and strode toward Harlee. His steps were unhurried, but the sheer weight of his presence made those around him instinctively lower their gazes.

His impeccably styled hair was slicked back, and he wore a simple, handcrafted black suit. An antique emerald ring adorned his hand. Although the pairing was unusual, it suited him perfectly.

Under the crowd’s watchful gaze, Harlee paid Errol no mind. With the microphone in hand, she strode to the stage, exuding an air of calm confidence. She looked out at the crowd and, without skipping a beat, said, “Next, let’s invite the creepy old man to come up and say a few words.”

She raised an eyebrow, a clear signal for Errol to step forward and speak.

Errol’s expression darkened. The words “creepy old man” rang in his ears like a curse. His carefully maintained image cracked as he shot Harlee a murderous glare, unable to keep his composure in front of everyone.

Thankfully, Moshe was ever at his side. A discreet whisper in Errol’s ear pulled him back from the brink. Realizing he had walked straight into Harlee’s trap, Errol smoothed his features, forcing a genial smile—the picture of a benevolent old man.

“You sure know how to joke around,” Errol cleared his throat, preparing to deliver a long-winded speech.

Harlee had no interest in listening

no substance. How about I donate a building to Uwhor University, just a little bigger than Errol’s? And in return, you all should listen to my speech,” she said

Well… Today had been full of surprises. Next time, she would sit under the stage and watch Harlee perform from the sidelines. She was utterly useless

new worlds at g

gasped, eyes widening as they followed Harlee’s unwavering gaze to Errol. Their hearts pounded in unison. Was Harlee seriously challenging Errol head-on? Was Harlee asking for trouble? Even the most patient person wouldn’t

the stage, her face a mask of composure, showing no hint of emotion. She was as calm

inevitable outburst,

lecturing, Ms. Sanderson, I would be honored to offer you the opportunity. I hope

a dramatic clash, were left reeling. Where was the confrontation they had anticipated? Why was this unfolding so differently

moment, stood frozen in place, utterly

into an alternate reality?

his lips as he turned his gaze toward her, a flicker of malicious pleasure in his eyes. He was playing the victim, twisting the narrative to paint