The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life

Chapter 1287:

When he arrived, Bleacher’s sharp gaze locked onto Corrine at the gambling table. Several men in dark suits lay sprawled on the floor, clutching their stomachs, faces twisted in pain, their moans swallowed by the heavy atmosphere.

The scene was ruthless.

Bleacher scoffed, disbelief lacing his tone. “Of all people, they picked a fight with her?” His eyes flicked to the men standing idly nearby, irritation sparking beneath his calm exterior. “Well? What are you waiting for? Get them out of here!”

As his orders were swiftly carried out, he smoothed his expression and turned toward Corrine, his demeanor shifting. “Miss Holland,” he murmured, voice softer, almost reverent. “Forgive me for not welcoming you properly upon your arrival.”

Behind him, his men exchanged stunned glances.

Bleacher was known as Jonathan’s most trusted aide, a man who showed unwavering respect to no one but his boss. Yet here he was, extending that same deference to a woman. It was unheard of.

stare unwavering. “Where is your boss? Take me to

meeting. Miss Holland, please follow me to the reception room

Corrine hopped off the table, tilting her chin slightly — a silent command of

kind that made her both mesmerizing and untouchable. A thorny white rose —

comparison. She carried the same unyielding presence

the reception room, he turned on his heel and strode toward Jonathan’s

time, he chose his

preamble, he showed a photograph of Corrine

image, and for a fleeting moment, an unfamiliar softness flickered in his eyes.

the reception

“Make sure she is

Bleacher nodded. “Understood.”

the message word for word to his subordinates before heading to the surveillance