Chapter 203

I didn’t even need to turn around. Just by the sound, I knew it was Margaret.

Bryant discreetly pulled his arm away. “What brings you here?”

“Dad brought me along,” Margaret’s voice was as soft as a whisper, “He said

I’d have to help you manage the Ferguson family in the future and thought it’d

be good to get familiar with everyone.”

I couldn’t help but scoff at the irony inside, listening to Bryant’s cold reply,

“Then go find him. Why stick around me?”

“What’s the matter? You hate me that bad?” Margaret feigned anger and

quickly switched to a pleading tone. “Oh, come on, are you still upset about

those photos from the other day? I’m not even mad, and why are you holding

a grudge? Besides, it was Jane who cheated on you, not me…”

“Margaret!” Bryant’s voice snapped as if trying to shake her off.

Albert appeared out of nowhere, assuming the role of the patriarch, “I’ve seen

some friends. I’m going to go over and say hi. Margaret’s new to such an

event. Keep an eye on her, okay? I don’t want anyone bothering her.”

I walked away, not catching Bryant’s response. It didn’t matter. What else

could he do but agree? But he probably forgot it was also my first time at such

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a high-society banquet.

“Jane.” I had just reached the entrance when Mark, having just finished a

conversation, made a beeline for me.

He glanced down at my bare legs, offering a warm smile. “Let’s go inside. It’s

cold out here.”

“Okay.” I nodded, and we stepped into the mansion, only for Violet to speak

sourly, “So, you’re the woman who’s been troubling him? Not bad-looking, I

must say. No wonder my ‘son’ couldn’t keep away after all these years.”

She mistook me for the girl Mark was interested in.

Frowning, I was about to speak when Mark cut in with a cold sharpness,

“Blame where blame is due. Don’t take it out on the innocent.”

Violet straightened her fur shawl, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the rush? I only

said one thing, and you’re already upset?”

Her attitude was less than pleasant, but it was a far cry from the disdain she

showed Mark at the family chapel, where she had practically treated him like

a dog.

Today, her restraint and wariness were evident.

Mark’s tone remained even. “She’s just a friend.”

“Just a friend?” Violet was skeptical, clearly not convinced.

Helplessly, I clarified, “Violet, we are just friends.”

Then, pointing toward Bryant, entangled with Margaret, I added, “See, I’m

married.”

She sized me up. “You’re… Bryant’s wife? The one he secretly married three

years ago?”

Behind me, Violet muttered, “Quite the interesting couple, cheating on ea