Chapter 44
Gemma was startled by his appearance. She propped herself up to look at him. "Preston? Preston, what's wrong?"
Preston's face was ashen. He didn't respond.
Gemma was frightened by his appearance. She propped herself up and leaned toward him, her voice trembling. "Preston, what happened? Say something!"
"It's over..." Preston's lips trembled, his gaze vacant. "It's all over..."
"What's over? Speak clearly!" Gemma's voice turned shrill.
"A hundred million dollars—wiped out." Preston suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot, his voice rising several octaves. "All the partners bailed! Three companies—at the same time—all terminated cooperation! Do you know what this means? It means the Wipere family is finished! Finished!"
Gemma's face went white as a sheet.
She froze for a few seconds, her lips beginning to tremble. "No more cooperation... doesn't that mean we'll have no money?"
That sentence pierced her mind like a needle.
No money.
She remembered the days before she married Preston—living in a rental in the slums, no air conditioning in summer, no heat in winter, haggling with vendors at the market for ages over groceries.
Later, when the Wipere family prospered, she finally lived well—big houses, designer bags, holding her head high among the other society wives.
And now she was being told she'd have to go back to that life?
"No..." she murmured, the tightness in her chest suddenly intensifying.
She opened her mouth to say something, but the breath wouldn't come. She swayed to the side and collapsed.
"Gemma! Gemma!" Preston panicked, lunging forward to catch her, patting her face. "Wake up! Someone! Call an ambulance, now!"
At noon, when Lucinda left Ridgeway Tech, she was carrying a gift box.
She looked down at her phone. Kenna had sent a message informing her about Preston losing a hundred million dollars and all the partners pulling out.
She finished reading, her expression unchanged, and was about to open a ride-hailing app when she looked up.
A Maybach was parked at the entrance.
Reginald leaned against the car door in a dark coat, phone in hand, looking down at something.
As if sensing her, he lifted his head. The moment he saw her, his eyes lit up.
He pocketed his phone and strode over, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe and back again. Only after confirming she was unharmed did he let out a breath of relief.
"I heard you got hassled at the company today?"
His voice carried a hint of frustration. "I rushed over as soon as I got word, but by the time I arrived, they said you'd already handled it."
Lucinda looked at him. His expression was serious, admiration in his eyes—and a hint of disappointment he couldn't quite hide.
Like he was thinking, Why couldn't I help again?
Her lips curved slightly. "Just a small matter. No need to trouble you."
Reginald watched her breezy demeanor, his admiration deepening even further.
"Have you eaten?"
"Not yet."
"Come on. Let's get food."
He stepped aside, his tone lightening. "You treated me last time. My turn now."
Lucinda glanced at him and didn't refuse.
The car drove through several streets and stopped in front of a hotel.
The entrance was understated, but anyone who knew the scene could tell this place had serious clout.
The Velvet Fork—on par with La Perle Blanche in Starlight City. Low-key, but luxurious to the bone.
The difference? This was a Lancaster family property.
Before getting out, Reginald glanced at Lucinda, his tone casual. "Go ahead with the driver. I have something to handle. I'll be right in."
Lucinda nodded.
He pushed open the door and stepped out. Before closing it, he leaned back in, a smile playing on his lips. "I had them prepare something inside. Hope you like it."
With that, he walked deeper into the hotel.
The driver got out, came around to the rear door, and opened it, holding his hand over the frame. His manner was respectful. "Ms. Wipere, please."
Lucinda stepped out with the gift box in her arms. The moment she stood, a familiar voice rang out behind her.
"What? The whole place is reserved?"
Allegra's voice was sharp and grating. "We made a reservation half a month in advance! How can you just say it's reserved?"
The attendant at the entrance remained polite but firm. "We sincerely apologize. A VIP has reserved the venue today, and we're not accepting other guests. We can reschedule your reservation or issue a full refund."
Marshall stood beside her, his expression equally displeased.
He'd gone to considerable trouble to secure this reservation, planning to bring Allegra here to make an impression. And now they couldn't even get through the door.
He frowned, his gaze sweeping past the attendant into the interior, his tone tinged with irritation. "Reserved? Who has that kind of clout?"
The attendant smiled but didn't answer, merely bowing slightly and gesturing politely for them to leave.
Allegra stood frozen, her mind buzzing.
The Velvet Fork was on the same level as La Perle Blanche in Starlight City.
How much would it cost to reserve the entire place?
She didn't dare imagine.
And whoever could reserve this place—what kind of status must they have?
Her heart skipped a beat. A thought suddenly occurred to her.
If one day someone reserved a place like this for her—how wonderful would that be.
That would be a man truly worthy of her.
Her fingers tightened around her purse strap, knuckles white.
Then she turned her head. Out of the corner of her eye, a familiar figure appeared.
Lucinda.
That woman was stepping out of a Maybach. A uniformed middle-aged man opened the door for her, his manner deferential.
And Lucinda? She got out as if it were the most natural thing in the world, didn't even glance in their direction, and walked straight into the hotel.
Allegra's eyes widened instantly.
Could it be... someone had reserved the place for Lucinda?
Her mind went into chaos.
What gave Lucinda the right?
Lucinda—that freeloader who'd lived off the Wipere family for twenty years—what gave her the right to have someone reserve The Velvet Fork for her?
Allegra took a deep breath, forcing down the bitterness rising in her chest. She plastered on a pained expression and turned to Marshall. "Marshall, look... isn't that Lucinda?"
Marshall followed her gaze. He only caught a glimpse of a figure disappearing into the corridor, and his frown deepened.
Allegra sighed, her tone growing more pained. "How could she... After leaving the Wipere family, she must really be desperate for money. Now she'll go for any man. Look at that—he's got a fancy car, but he's old enough to be her father. And she still threw herself at him..."
She shook her head, as if she couldn't bear to say more. "I really feel sorry for her. She spent twenty years in the Wipere family. How did it come to this?"
Marshall withdrew his gaze from the vanished figure, his eyes filled with disgust. "No need to concern yourself with her."
His voice turned cold. "That kind of materialistic woman doesn't compare to a single finger of yours. In this lifetime, I won't spare her a second glance."
Allegra lowered her head, her lips curving briefly before she suppressed the smile.
She looped her arm through Marshall, her voice soft. "Marshall, you're so good to me."
Finally, she felt a sense of satisfaction.
So what if Lucinda had latched onto a rich man?
Some old, ugly guy who couldn't hold a candle to even Marshall's sleeve.
No matter how pretty Lucinda was, she could only serve that kind of old man.
But she, Allegra, had Marshall—young, handsome, from a good family. He was the man truly worthy of her.