Rebirth to Be with My Disabled Husband (or The Ninth Bride)

Chapter 270 It Doesn't Matter

Edmond stood in stunned silence as he took in the room around him, bathed in the vibrant, pulsating neon lights of red and green, reminiscent of a lively nightclub.

"Mr. Dean, did you bring me here just to join your party?" he asked, his confusion palpable as he surveyed the extravagant scene.

Finley's gaze was as icy as a winter's night, sharp and unyielding. "You wish. Sit over there and wait for Sam to work her magic on you." Makeup? For him?

Edmond blinked rapidly, feeling as though he had misheard. Shaking his head, he looked at Finley and protested, "Mr. Dean, I think I'll pass on the makeup. I'm a man, after all. Sure, some men wear makeup, but I'm not like those guys. I don't particularly care for it. Besides, I don't think I'm unattractive enough to need makeup to enhance my looks."

Where did Edmond get the audacity to think himself anything less than ordinary? Even if he wasn't outright unattractive, 'handsome' was hardly a fitting description. Finley, showing no patience for protests, firmly guided him to a nearby stool. "Don't move. Let Sam handle the makeup."

determined grip, he resigned himself to the task, sulking as

time, the transformation

down her makeup brush and gestured to the outfit

red jacket in disbelief, after which he

voice trembling with incredulity. "Mrs. Dean, the makeup you

like Sylvan, and this outfit? It's one he wore as well.

expression-make it as sleazy and revolting as possible. The more despicable, the better. If you

mention of a raise,

about his

handed him. In it, a man lounged provocatively, legs crossed, drinking and smoking while inviting four women to partake in suggestive

Hold on a second...