I Quit, Mr. Shaffer by Isabella Symons

Chatper 250

Chapter 250 What Good Will My Death Do?

Chapter 250

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Isabella stood by the door, listening to the conversation, her hands unconsciously

clenched. She wanted to rush in and curse, but considering the consequences, she

realized that rushing in would only embarrass herself.

Dariel and Corey were simply mocking her. Even if she exposed them on the spot, they

would only think she was angry out of embarrassment and dismiss her with a few

teasing words.

She took a deep breath, suppressed her anger, and quietly tiptoed downstairs again. As

she turned the corner, she bumped into Natasha.

“What’s wrong?” she inquired.

Isabella didn’t change her expression, pulled her friend back into the room, and shared

what she had overheard.

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Chapter 250 What Good Will My Death Do?

“Oh my goodness! Those idiots were playing with their lives!”

Isabella poured a glass of water, took a big gulp, and leaned against the edge of the

next to her and said,

know about this.”

care whether Seth knew or not.

think. She had been giving him the cold shoulder

urge to rush

these events, it felt like a game of cat

ever get the chance, don’t let Dariel off

teeth as if Dariel was right

you to tell me that. I want to strangle

250 What Good Will My Death

finished speaking, there was a knock at the

Then came Freya

a masquerade later. Bella, why don’t you take a shower and

no mood for fun and instinctively looked for

Mr. Shaffer woke up. It

upstairs to eat.”

shocked. “That

nodded. “It seems he just choked on water.

could speak, Natasha’s voice floated out from inside.

his own life.”

head up after we

250 What Good Will My

was off and hummed without sticking

the room door, Isabella cursed under her breath. Natasha stretched lazily, came

and patted her shoulder. “No need to get angry with

something up

“I need to take

up first and wait for

the room, her mind in turmoil

bathroom, luckily only landing

the commotion, she finally left the room. It was already

upstairs, constantly looking around, afraid

fifth floor was the banquet area, spacious and decorated in a

250 What Good Will

was only 4 p.m., but

wanted to find Natasha, but she couldn’t

anywhere.

The clear voice of a young man

a chill down her spine, turned

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