Revenge Of The Jilted Bride

Jilted Bride 55

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14:48 Mon, Nov 11 er uti.

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Chapter 55

A discreet Maybach was parked at the mouth of an alley next to the hospital.

The tinted windows reflected Kenneth's stunningly handsome features. His deep-set eyes lowered slightly as he casually raised his wrist to check the time on his watch.

Ophelia yanked open the car door and quickly slid into the back seat.

"One minute and forty-three seconds late," Kenneth remarked coolly.

Ophelia caught her breath, mentally cursing Harry to hell and back. She gazed up at Kenneth, the picture of cool sophistication, her eyes wide and pleading like a wounded doe. This guy is truly an asshole,' she thought bitterly.

Kenneth's eyes flashed with a hint of smugness as he instructed the driver to start moving. He casually ruffled the girl's hair. "Remember, your weekends are mine," he said softly. 'Since when did we agree on that?' Ophelia thought, pouting slightly.

It seemed that spending weekends together had somehow become an unspoken rule between them. She secretly decided to give Kenneth a hard time about it next time. "So, you're one minute and forty-three seconds late. How do you plan to make it up to me?" Kenneth pressed on.

When Ophelia remained silent, Kenneth glanced meaningfully at the driver. Understanding the cue, the driver raised the partition between them.

Kenneth's voice was velvet-smooth as he leaned in close. "A deal's a deal, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. The pet name dripped with charm, and Ophelia felt her pulse quicken. His voice alone was a siren call she couldn't resist.

In the coffee shop, Harry fiddled with his shirt cuff. "So, what do you think of my offer?" he asked, exuding confidence. In Harry's mind, Ophelia had already admitted defeat, handing the decision over to Christopher. Her so-called "investment" would amount to a few hundred thousand dollars at most-pocket change that wouldn't make a dent in Christopher's shell of a company.

couldn't fathom Christopher turning down such a generous offer. He leaned

Selling your company isn't easy. But I'm offering you an annual salary of 200 thousand dollars to work at Hastings Group. You'll still be doing what you love, minus all the risks. Win-win, right?" Harry's tone turned dismissive as he added, "Young and

dollars in my company. We've signed a contract, and she now owns 70 percent of the shares. She's my boss. If

eyes narrowing as they unconsciously fixated on the briefcase

me,' Harry thought. 'Where on earth did Ophelia get that kind

14:48 Mon, Nov 11

Chapter 55

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lost

out the agreement and flipped to the last page, showing

face turning a deep shade of red. He recalled Ophelia's earlier dismissive smirk and suddenly felt a stinging sensation on his checks. Christopher, who he had previously looked down on as a

your two million dollars,

cover the company's previous debts,' he scoffed

Christopher, who'd been practically begging for investments just

quickened as he slammed his fist on the table, causing coffee to splash

Hastings Group, Harry followed Owen into

his desk and handed it to Harry. "Take a look. Many companies have their eyes on these plots of land for auction. Which one do you think

location, it's definitely East Harbor. It's close to downtown and has excellent green space. But that plot will be in high demand-we can't snag it for less than 70

clearly pleased with

area." "Exactly. That's why we're aiming for the West End Soccer Field. In the next couple of days, work with the appraiser on the bid. You'll handle the auction on Friday." Owen patted Harry's shoulder, showing complete faith in him. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll make sure

West End. Harry showed up with his secretary

greeted him warmly. "Harry! Look how you've grown," one of

chimed in, "Owen is quite a lucky man. He's got such a fine son in you. Unlike my good-for-nothing kid who can't help me with anything and only

to their praise. He considered himself the most successful among his peers born into wealth, confident that he

continued, a striking figure appeared in the doorway. She wore a black sheath dress, cinched at the waist, with a brown belt. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek, low ponytail. Every step she took oozed purpose and quiet confidence. The moment she entered, all eyes in