Upon hearing it, Tyrone immediately sensed something was off. He knew his mother, Mrs. York, like the back of his hand. She was deliberately lowering her voice, fearing others might hear, clearly wary of someone. "Mom, what's going on? Who are you with?"

Mrs. York whispered back, "Don't worry. Mom's not going to get you into trouble. I'm just out shopping."

"Mom, be straight with me. Who are you shopping with? Are you planning to take me out for lunch?"

"It's not me; someone else is treating."

Tyrone heard someone calling for Mrs. York over the phone.

"Mrs. York, is the call through? Can Ty make it?"

"It's through. He'll come over after work. My son, he always listens to me."

Tyrone frowned. "Mom, have you run into some trouble?"

in response was

Tyrone's concerned expression, Quintessa asked, "What's

might be some trouble with my

"Should we go now?"

glanced at his watch, "There's still half an hour to go until the end of work. Stick around for a bit. After work, we'll go to Golden Harvest together." "For

it's

you sure

my dear old lady. When did you two forge

If you, her

wrapped his

worry. In Emberbrook, no one dares mess with my mom. Just take a seat and relax for a

document from his desk and handed it to Quintessa. Upon

perfume, and she was to be the lead

the entertainment industry, there was no way she could've landed such a high-profile endorsement on her own.

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