Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

Chapter 72

whistled in disbelief, “Catch heat for making a payment on time? Mr. Richardson is a tough cookie.”

Curtis’ sour mood carried over into the evening’s dinner party.

The big boss from Blue Beacon Collective, Albert, was throwing a grand dinner in his honor, laying it on thick with flattery, but Curtis was barely present.

He complained that the hotel’s custom French perfume was too fragrant, dredging up some unpleasant memories.

He griped that the lobster was giving him the stink eye as if holding a grudge?

Albert suspected Curtis was nitpicking on purpose, a tit-for-tat for that time Albert tried to use his connections to cozy up to some big shot.

“Mr. Richardson,” he said with a plastered-on smile, “Are you still holding a grudge about. our last little mishap? I admit I was shortsighted. But look at this partnership now. It’s smooth sailing and a win-win. Let’s let bygones be bygones, shall we?”

Curtis, legs crossed, leaned back in his chair with an air of nonchalance, lazily tapped the ash off his cigarette, “Me? Hold grudges? I wouldn’t dare.”

Albert was met with silence.

Sarcasm was thick in the air.

atmosphere and asked curiously, “Why didn’t you bring your wife here today, Mr.

a lazy puff from his cigarette, Curtis snorted, “She’s mad at me. I wouldn’t dare chat her u

Qui

thought I’d see the day Mr.

bad, you know. Haven’t you heard? The more a nis wife, the better his fortune.

his lip,

just

with a languid, “What’s up? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

the bar and I’ve

as he tapped his cigarette on

Chapter /2

y are you

been to bars before, more worked up about it than I

and just gave Curtis the address with the authority, “Aken Bar. Get here

doesn’t look right, sitting there crying

a few seconds before the line

the bar and saw Leanne, sitting alone, drowning her sorrows in drink.

way of drinking was subdued. Sitting there. silently, she clutched a bottle of beer, tilting her delicate, pale