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."

but unable to escape Finley's determined grip, he resigned himself to the task, sulking as Samantha set about applying the

no time, the transformation

meticulous effort, finally set down her makeup brush and gestured to the outfit Finley had prepared.

red jacket in disbelief, after which he trudged

he hurried to Samantha, his voice trembling with incredulity. "Mrs. Dean, the makeup you applied makes me look like a completely different person. The reflection in

'almost.' styled you to look exactly like Sylvan, and this outfit? It's one he

The more despicable, the better. If you pull this off,

mention of a raise,

his resemblance

lounged provocatively, legs crossed, drinking and smoking while inviting four women to partake in

Hold on a second...

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