Chapter 179: Dylan's Identity!
Caught off guard, Abigail Johnson stood frozen, not sure what to do.
As she felt the judgmental stares from those around her, her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
The slapping incident at The Pint House with Kyle had left a significant scar on her psyche.
It was a humiliating tale that threatened her aspirations of becoming a Houston socialite.
She was dressed to the nines for today's affluent auction, and hoped to flaunt her elegance and perhaps even catch the eye of a wealthy suitor.
But Nathan's single comment had dashed her plans!
The worst part was, Abigail knew she couldn't lash out in anger at Nathan's words.
Instead, she plastered on a polite smile, trying to maintain her composure.
Nathan, however, didn't linger on the topic for long.
He turned to Ryder Clark and said, "Hey Ryder, looks like you're here to snag a gem today! I've got a VIP booth reserved. Why don't you join me? There's plenty of fine wine and food, and we can catch up. What do you say?"
Ryder Clark naturally couldn't refuse Nathan’s warm invitation.
He nodded in agreement.
The two of them, along with Cara, made their way to the central booth.
The security guards hadn't interfered.
It wasn't because the manager had confirmed Ryder's status as a gold-level member. They hadn’t even made the call.
The reason they let Ryder in was simple: he was a friend of Nathan, the young master.
The guards didn't dare object.
The security guard breathed a sigh of relief, grateful he hadn't overstepped with Ryder.
Crossing Nathan's friends would have spelled disaster for a mere guard like him.
After that close call, he went back downstairs to his post.
The crowd, who were curious about Ryder and eager to see the auction items, settled into the general seating area of the auction hall.
The Johnson family of four managed to snag some seats toward the front, not wanting to draw any undue attention to themselves.
However, they each wore a grave expression that was hard to miss.
Matthew and Lawrence were utterly baffled, and struggled to understand how Ryder Clark had gotten close to someone like Nathan, who was practically a celebrity in their circles. No matter how they racked their brains, they couldn't see any common ground between such distinct personalities.
With a noticeable frown, Grandpa Johnson pressed Abigail, "Tell me, what did Nathan mean by that comment to you? What exactly happened at the George Weir company's inaugural party? Out with the truth!"
Abigail felt a pit in her stomach. She hadn't dared to tell the truth about what happened that evening. Instead, she had concocted a story about running into an old classmate on the way there who was cornering a mistress. She claimed to have helped catch the mistress, only to be slapped in the face.
After all, if Grandpa Johnson learned what actually transpired, he would conclude without a doubt that she had embarrassed the Johnson family in public. And nothing was more crucial to Grandpa Johnson than the family's reputation—It was as if their dignity and his own were one and the same.
But now that Grandpa Johnson was questioning her himself, she had no choice but to recount the day's events—albeit with some embellishments.
She portrayed the entire ordeal as if Ryder Clark had deliberately provoked her, leaving her no choice but to respond. She even falsely accused Ryder Clark of wanting to see Grandpa Johnson slapped across the face and humiliated.
As she expected, after hearing the entire story, Grandpa Johnson clenched his teeth and muttered resentfully, "That reckless brat has gone too far! We should have never involved such a scoundrel in our affairs. That wretched Sarah Johnson has singlehandedly brought our entire family into disrepute!"
After cursing out his frustrations, Grandpa Johnson seemed to regain some composure before probing further. "But do you have any idea how Ryder got to be on such good terms with Nathan? Their relationship seems awfully suspicious."
Quickly, with a flash of bitterness in her eyes, Abigail replied, "If you think about it, Grandpa, it all makes sense. How else would Sarah have suddenly had these powerful figures coming to her aid? And why is Ryder Clark suddenly being so bold? There’s certainly some unsavory scheming behind all this!"
Grandpa Johnson furrowed his brow and demanded, "Spill the beans!"
"Well," the reply came, "That loser, Ryder Clark, has probably pawned off Sarah Johnson, that little harlot, to someone else as a mistress for the sake of his future. And that someone is probably Nathan!
"Sure, Sarah Johnson can't hold a candle to me in the looks department, but to be honest, she has her charms—enough to catch Nathan's eye. So once the deal is done, everything that follows..."
At this point, Grandpa Johnson and the other two men nodded in sudden realization, finding the reasoning quite compelling.
Nathan was the grandson of Scott Brown, the chairman of Maple Group, and Maple Real Estate was a subsidiary of Maple Group.
Naturally, Nathan would have the clout to meddle in the affairs of Maple Real Estate.
That also explained why Ryder Clark, who was head of security at Maple Real Estate, acted so arrogantly, and why Maple Real Estate seemed to take such good care of Sarah Johnson.
Everything fell into place.
Grandpa Johnson snorted in disgust and grumbled, "It's a real disgrace, having such a shameless woman in the family! In the old days, she would have been punished severely for her dishonor!"
Matthew and Lawrence nodded in agreement, muttering condemnations of Sarah Johnson's lack of decency and implying that Ryder Clark deserved to be cuckolded for being such a wimp...
Meanwhile, in a certain VIP lounge…
The spacious room was well over 300 square feet and furnished with high-end sofas imported from Europe, and the table was laden with an assortment of desserts, fruits, and fine beverages.
Standing attentively behind each guest was a uniformed hostess, attractive and fit, ready to cater to any whim.
Three men were deep in conversation when a knock echoed at the door of the VIP lounge.
"Come in!" Nathan called out.
The door swung open, and Ryder Clark's eyes met with a familiar figure—Dylan, the property manager of Platan Heights Villas.
Recognizing Dylan, Ryder Clark and Nathan quickly rose to greet him.
Dylan managed a wry smile and said, "Having such distinguished guests here is honor enough. There's no need for such formalities. Really, it makes me feel quite guilty!"
Ryder Clark chuckled and said, "You flatter me, Manager Sun! It's my first time at an auction like this, so if I slip up, I hope you'll bear with me!"
Dylan simply said that as long as Ryder Clark and his crew were having a good time, nothing else mattered!
After exchanging pleasantries, Dylan glanced at his watch and said, "Sorry, folks, we've got less than five minutes before the auction starts, and I've got a few last-minute things to cover. Please excuse me."
With that, Dylan left the private box.
Once Dylan had departed, Nathan settled back into the sofa, murmuring quietly to himself, “Man, to think we’re both from wealthy families, but compared to Dylan, I feel like a total deadbeat."
Ryder Clark paused, puzzled, “What do you mean?”
Nathan asked, “Don’t you know Dylan’s real deal?"
"All I know is he's the property manager of Platan Heights Villas," Ryder replied.
"That's not the half of it," Nathan said, shaking his head. He lowered his voice and confided in Ryder Clark with a secretive smile. "The truth is, Dylan’s the second son of the chairman of ZD Group. And he's the man behind the curtain of this high-end private club we’re sitting in, Wisteria Club."
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