Novel & Cerita The Heir And The Servant, Started From A Bet

Lance said with a serious voice. "No! I'm not going to leave here until you agree to give me my shares in the company!" the man shouted, causing my eyes to widen. So they're fighting because of the inheritance left by Lance's father before he died. I saw Lance grin there and shake his head as if he had been holding his patience for a while.

W…what ", I gasped out, feeling everyone's eyes on me. "That's right baby girl,you're mine, all mine and this time you have no escape", He growled eyes alight with an intense fire. He shocked us all by…….. clapping his hands, and before we could blink, a servant appeared. A sense of foreboding filled me up. I just knew that whatever was going to happen wasn't going to be good, at least for me I risked a glance at the servant again, he held a box in his hand, a fancy box of some kind

Plus, it had been a long time since he had fought anyone, and he was itching for a fight. "To act so arrogantly within the territory of Gazelle Tavern, I'll teach you a lesson!" the servant shouted. Adrian had already been angered by the remark "Underground Emperor's father." Seeing the servant intending to act added fuel to the fire. Before the servant could approach, Adrian made his move first.

“Well isn’t this a lively party!” shouted a particularly unwelcoming voice which came from the main entrance. As everyone turned to look, a group of people—led by a rich, young heir—could be seen entering the house. “You can’t enter since you weren’t invited!” shouted a servant who had been trying to block them from proceeding the moment they entered the building. “Out of our way!” growled one of the men being led by the heir as he shoved the servant aside.

Two people ready to play hard. I took his hand. Not for comfort. To seal it. “We finish this,” I said. He nodded once. The heiress was dead. Long live the queen.

“Young Master Ken, Young Master Neil, did he actually spend that much money? I refuse to believe him, the son-in-law who was enlisted as a soldier for five years can fork out that much money!” Cecilia was very dissatisfied. She was dissatisfied because she could never have forked out that much money and was she actually inferior to the son-in-law? “He actually did. The thing is, Young Master Ivan too had his eye on that mansion and wanted to bid for the mansion as a gift for Old Master Taylor so he went to the auction that day. However, he did not expect Fane to be present as well…” Ken laughed before continuing, “So, both of them wanted to bid for it. They even made a bet that the loser wou

Wiz Immortal merely sneered, but he said nothing. Darryl chuckled lightly. He looked closely at Wiz Immortal. "If that's the case, Wiz Immortal, would you like to bet with me?" Empress Heidi had a distinguished and honored position. Naturally, she could not bet with Darryl, so Darryl could only target Wiz Immortal. After all, he was Prince Aurin's master. If he lost the bet, Prince Auten would lose his dignity too, and he would not be that arrogant in the future.

"Hmph. It seems he really has no faith in us!" "Sir, actually…" "What, are you saying he took the hundred strikes bet?" Jaden was furious even before the servant could finish, exclaiming in disbelief, "What's Gene Pearce's problem?! This is an insult to us Favonis!" "No, sir!" the servant quickly butted in, pursing his parched lips as he braced himself and said, "He didn't bet on you… He's betting on the other side!" "What?!" Jaden's eyes went wide in sheer fury.

He asked, looking at me from head to toe and focusing on the neckline of my blouse, making me roll my eyes. I move closer to him, glaring at him. "I am the Montanari heiress, this chair is mine!" I speak a little lower, but firm and serious. "And I am your future husband and I would have to take over the company". Seriously spoken. "But don't worry, I can make you secretary. You'll be great to work with". Speaks mischievously, licking his lips as he looks down at my cleavage again. I roll my eyes and walk over to his side, controlling myself so I don't end up committing murder.

Nathan Vanguard’s cufflink snagged on the car door as he slid into the Mercedes, a tiny rebellion against the otherwise seamless morning. The driver, a wiry man with a name tag reading “Hassan”, nodded too eagerly in the rearview. Nathan adjusted his sleeve, the platinum links catching Brunei’s amber sunrise. A gift from his father after the Tokyo acquisition. "For the man who never misses detail," the note had read. Now the clasp felt like a shackle.