Chapter 562:
The thought flickered through her mind, but she quickly brushed it aside, almost laughing at herself. Surely Brad’s girlfriend would arrive in style.
All they needed to do was wait, and Zaylee would soon arrive.
Then the screech of brakes cut through the air.
An old Bentley rolled to a stop by the roadside, its noisy brakes drawing every eye. The door opened, and Zaylee stepped out in a pink chiffon dress, doing her best to appear composed as she walked toward Beatrice and the others. Earlier that evening, Zaylee had planned to borrow Brad’s car for the occasion. To her surprise, when she went to the garage, every car was gone. In a rush, she asked the butler, only to be met with a cool response: “Mr. Morgan has an event tonight. All the cars have been dispatched.”
Panic had risen in her chest. “What about my car? My driver?”
With a faintly mocking tone, the butler had replied, “Miss Cullen, when you arrived at the Morgan home, all you had was a suitcase and a bicycle. The bicycle is still in the warehouse if you’d like to use it.”
Zaylee’s eyebrows shot up, her voice tight with indignation. “Do you even know my current status? How dare you suggest that I ride a bicycle?”
The butler’s gaze remained steady. “I wouldn’t know. What is your current status?”
The words left her speechless, her cheeks burning with frustration.
She couldn’t openly challenge a man who had served the Morgans for decades, but she swore to herself that one day she would see him dismissed for this insult.
With time running out, she had no choice but to drain her savings to rent a half-decent Bentley. Clutching her invitations, she made her way to the venue. By the time she arrived, her hair and dress showed signs of the rush.
Her appearance snapped Beatrice and the others out of their earlier daze.
Though Zaylee had dressed with care and carried herself with a certain personal flair, her gown was an outdated piece of haute couture, and the worn Bentley she arrived in was far from the standard of high society.
The contrast with Miss Owen’s Rolls-Royce motorcade, her polished bodyguards, and her effortless grace was glaring.
The chill of that comparison settled over the group, leaving Beatrice and the others quietly stunned. Something didn’t add up.
Why did Brad’s girlfriend seem to be treated so carelessly? And she didn’t appear to have any class at all.
The flicker of shock — and worse, disappointment — in Beatrice’s eyes hit Zaylee like a punch to the gut.
She recognized that look all too well. Forcing the humiliation back down where it belonged, she curved her lips into what she hoped passed for a gracious smile and strode forward, holding out the three invitations in her hand. “I’m so sorry! Something unexpected happened on the way, and I got delayed. Here — Brad personally handed me three invitations just for you. Come on, we have to get inside before the bidding starts!”
Doubt still lingered in their eyes, but the lure of prime commercial property was stronger than suspicion.
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