Chapter 160 Think You're So Pure?
It was high noon, and the sun beat down on the Rich Rhein Golf Course in New York, dripping with opulence.
Violet had to join Brady for a round of golf.
As they entered the grand venue, caddies and attendants in professional attire quickly gathered around, ready to serve Brady.
As for Violet, they recognized her as Mr. Hall's companion and, regardless of her status, treated her with similar enthusiasm, leaving her feeling somewhat out of place.
Brady Hall had invited her to the golf course and, fortunately, didn't expect her to play. Instead, they drove together over to the expansive green where one could hit a few balls.
Upon arrival, Brady was the first to step out of the cart.
The caddie followed closely, lugging the golf clubs and balls after Brady.
Violet Devereux, with no skills in the game, trailed behind at a deliberate pace.
The heat was truly beginning to bear down.
Under the scorching sunlight, a thin layer of sweat formed on Violet’s brow.
By the time Violet looked his way, Brady was already teeing off. After watching for a bit and feeling the overwhelming heat, she decided to seek shade to rest.
She had only taken a few steps when suddenly a small white golf cart zoomed past her from behind, nearly hitting her. Violet steadied herself to continue toward the shade, but the cart that had almost hit her came to a halt.
A man quickly hopped out.
Upon spotting Violet, he seemed taken aback. Then a wave of sarcasm swept across his face—it had been over a year, and yet, here he was, bumping into Violet Devereux, the woman who had cuckolded him.
What a coincidence.
Oliver’s gaze was icy as he quickly intercepted her path and began hurling insults. "Violet Devereux, what are you doing here? This is a playground for the wealthy. Didn’t the Devereux family cast you out?"
Blocked by him, Violet also looked surprised; she hadn’t expected to encounter Oliver, her former fiancé, here. But they had nothing left to say to each other.
Violet had no desire to engage with him.
She shot him a cool glance, said nothing, and attempted to walk away.
But Oliver wasn’t having it. He had been forced into an arranged marriage with the Devereux heiress, only for her to cheat on him?
It was a tremendous insult.
Thankfully, he had called off the wedding. Otherwise, he might still be sickened by her betrayal.
However, even with the broken engagement, the humiliation of being made a cuckold by her was far from settled in his mind.
"Violet Devereux, did you latch onto another man already?" Oliver snatched her hand, scrutinizing her beautiful face. "A pretty face often spells trouble," he sneered. "Tell me, have you resorted to selling yourself now?"
"You're the one who's selling yourself! Are you sick?" Violet Devereux could not stand being insulted. When Oliver spat out those words, she instantly grew furious, struggling fiercely against his grip.
"You cursed at me? You think you're so pristine?" Oliver wanted to shame her deeply. "Countless men have been with you. What act are you putting on?"
"Oliver, let me go," Violet demanded, refusing to engage further. "If you don't release me now, I'll start calling for help."
"Yeah, go ahead and scream. I want to see which new guy you've latched onto this time," Oliver retorted arrogantly. After all, being one of the city's wealthy young elites, he didn't care much. But just as he finished speaking, a ‘thwack’ echoed through the air.
A white golf ball struck Oliver's leg with precision.
The pain was too much for Oliver, and he released Violet, rolling on the ground clutching his leg, yelping like a wounded dog.
While Oliver yelped in pain, Brady Hall approached, golf club in hand. Towering over the man writhing on the ground, he said icily, "If you lay a hand on Ms. Devereux again, it won't be just a ball hitting your leg next time."
Implying next time it would be the golf club breaking bones.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
