Chapter 884:
Terrance poured a drink for him.
“At the time, Brad suffered from damaging news that indirectly affected his family’s stock market holdings. Yet through his connections with the Havenridge Group, he recovered rapidly. Even if we fail to acquire those parcels of land, a partnership with Havenridge would still be valuable. Either way, Detour Inc. is safeguarded.”
Gregg took a measured sip of his drink, his expression unreadable.
Terrance pressed on, his tone turning solemn.
“Whatever the outcome, Mr. Baxter, I’m prepared to let my daughter marry you. A man of your stature deserves a woman like her.”
Laurel quickly added, her voice heavy with pride.
“Our daughter is virtuous and well bred, her reputation beyond reproach. Rumors may swirl around her, but anyone who truly knows her will see her worth.”
Gregg let out a booming laugh.
“Then there’s no time like the present. We—”
“I will not marry this old geezer!” Paola suddenly erupted, her voice shrill with fury. She sprang to her feet and hurled her wine glass to the floor, where it shattered into glittering shards.
“I told you, Evan is coming for me! He’s younger, richer, and far more distinguished than this wrinkled relic! I refuse to marry him!”
Gregg’s face darkened at the insult. His hand tightened around his glass before he set it down with deliberate force. His tone turned icy.
“It seems Miss Garrett has little appreciation for the affections of an old man.”
Terrance immediately tried to smooth things over, bowing his head in apology as Paola stormed toward the door. He shot Laurel a sharp look, urging her to chase after their daughter before she caused further disgrace.
Paola burst out of the private room, her heels striking the polished floor in a storm of rage. But as she hurried down the corridor, a voice stopped her cold.
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In her mind, it was a voice that belonged to someone who should have been gone.
Her breath caught. She turned toward the sound and followed it to a high balcony. Beyond the glass doors stood a man she would have recognized anywhere, even in disguise. He was dressed in a tailored suit, his head slightly bowed as he spoke to Rylie with calm gravity.
Mylo had only just begun to apologize, acknowledging the wrongs he had committed, when the balcony’s glass door suddenly burst open with a thunderous crash.
Both of them turned sharply at the sound.
Paola stood frozen in the doorway, the color draining from her face before her legs gave out beneath her. She collapsed to the floor, trembling so violently she could barely breathe, her wide eyes locked on the man before her.
“M-Mylo?” she stammered, her voice thin and broken as it echoed through the stunned silence.
“You… you were supposed to be dead!”
“Indeed, I came close to death.” Mylo took a few steps forward, the faint trace of a bitter smile curving his lips. “But thanks to you, I was given another chance—to choose my own path.”
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