Chapter 1511
Chicago muttered a quick "thanks" and took her seat, her mind buzzing with one thought: the voice and appearance matched perfectly.
Imogen Fairfax took a bite of her food and felt a wave of nausea. Her eyes instinctively darted to Terrence's seat, and she nearly exploded with anger. That dirty person from earlier had actually sat across from Terrence!
Recognizing her duty, Imogen immediately stood up and marched over. "Miss, you can't sit here!"
Chicago was just about to take a bite of her food. Anyone messing with her now was really asking for it. "Why not?"
Chicago was speechless. Wait, she hadn't even spoken yet? She looked up at the man across from her, a spoonful of food still in her hand.
"Terrence, everyone knows you're upset and doesn't want to bother you!" Imogen's eyes turned red. "She's filthy, who knows where this homeless person came from. What if she has some contagious disease?"
Chicago gently put down her spoon and glanced sideways at Imogen. They hadn't clashed earlier, so Imogen assumed she was scared and glared back.
"Are you out of your mind?" Chicago said, clearly annoyed. "Have you ever seen a homeless person as pretty as me?"
Imogen was stunned.
"Stop worrying about whether I have a contagious disease. You look like you're the one who's really sick!"
Imogen's face turned bright red. "You poor thing, who said I'm sick?"
"You," Chicago pointed at her.
Janna had told her that pointing was rude. She pointed very forcefully.
"You look like you've lost your mind. Otherwise, why would you suddenly bark at a stranger?"
She didn't raise her voice. She had an air of reasonableness, as if she was calmly explaining things and was completely justified.
Terrence, sitting across from her, watched with a slight smile, amusement deep in his eyes.
"You!" Imogen suddenly raised her hand.
Terrence's expression changed. He was about to stand up, but then the person across from him stood up abruptly. She was tall and suddenly exuded an imposing presence. Imogen immediately took a half-step back.
"Let me warn you first, I'm really good at fighting. Someone like you, I could kick three of you to death with one foot. If you want to try, go ahead!"
At that moment, an elderly couple hurried over from behind Imogen. After catching Terrence's icy gaze, they quickly pulled Imogen away.
Terrence looked at the person in front of him.
Chicago was still fuming. After sitting down, she looked at her bowl of food and muttered, "So annoying, my food's gone cold!"
Terrence chuckled softly.
Chicago looked up at him. "What's so funny? Are you happy I didn't beat up her?"
"You're really good at fighting?" Terrence asked, intrigued.
Based on Imogen's earlier words, the person in front of him should be the rumored grandson of that big shot.
To be fair, Chicago had grown up around people like Stuart, Mike, and Christopher. Even if she only learned a bit, she was indeed very good at fighting.
In middle school, a kid with an underdeveloped brain found out her parents were tycoons and brought people to mess with her. Seven or eight people, all taken down by her alone. Although she almost got a beating when she got home, to this day, Chicago still thought she was pretty awesome!
"Yeah." Chicago responded nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. She started focusing on her food.
In the restaurant, the person who cooked lunch and dinner was different every day. The chef at night somehow made the food taste amazing, with each grain of rice incredibly fragrant. Even without any dishes, she could eat a whole bowl of rice.
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