Chapter 3

Laurelle felt like the breath had been knocked out of her lungs. She unconsciously dug her fingers into her palm. Not loving her was one thing. Why did he have to humiliate her like that? After a while, she regained her composure. She looked up and smiled at Maverick, saying, "Mave, you can't humiliate me as you wish just because I like you." Maverick froze. His eyes couldn't help but linger on her. Perhaps it was because he hadn't seen her smile like that in too long. However, Laurelle had lowered her head. Maverick loosened his tie and snubbed his cigarette. Although he didn't want to admit it, Laurelle had changed. She no longer smiled as much as she used to. It was as though she was a wilting flower in a broken vase. Although it didn't affect him in any way, it annoyed him. What was he even annoyed about? He suppressed his chaotic thoughts and reminded Laurelle, "It's Bianca's birthday. I'll be taking you back to the Fletcher residence. But remember to be obedient. Don't disturb her. Bianca isn't like you." Laurelle felt like someone had driven a stake through her heart. In Maverick's eyes, Bianca was a regal rose. Laurelle wouldn't even qualify to be a leaf on her stem. … An hour later, Laurelle was stuffed into a car by Chester. There was a huge crowd in the hall at the Fletcher residence. Although Bianca wasn't the real heiress to the Fletcher fortune, they threw a grand birthday party for her every year. One of the reasons why they did so was to consolidate their position in high society. They also did so to show how they valued Bianca; it was a sign of support for her. All the rich families in Juville had received an invitation. A gaggle of housewives were chatting in one corner of the hall. It was nothing more than the usual gossip circulating within the echelons of higher society. "Bianca isn't Mr. Fletcher's biological daughter, isn't she? Why do they spoil her rotten? There isn't a story behind this, is there?" someone voiced their confusion. "She's a capable schemer and a talented girl. Aren't those the characteristics people in our position look up to? Whether she's related to them or not doesn't matter. What matters is whether she's able to benefit the family." One of the other women nodded her agreement and added, "I've heard about that too. Bianca secured a few huge deals within six months of joining the company. William was overjoyed and promoted her to the position of assistant director. It seems like he's training her to take over the company from him in the future." "Although that may be what they say, she's still unrelated to them at the end of the day. Aren't the Fletchers giving the company to someone else? Where are her biological parents? Why doesn't she go back to them?" "She couldn't find them," someone continued, "It's a little weird. Theoretically, Patricia Longchamp, who adopted Laurelle, should've been Bianca's biological mother. However, they did a DNA test and found that they aren't related." When Laurelle heard that, she balled her palms into fists. She still didn't understand how Patricia and Bianca weren't related. She thought that her foster mom had exchanged her with Bianca to give her a better life. However, Bianca wasn't her daughter. In the end, Patricia lost her daughter, Laurelle returned to the Fletchers, and no one knew of Bianca's real parentage. Because they didn't know her parentage, she had stayed in the Fletcher family for over two decades. Since they'd raised her from a young age, the Fletchers treated her like their biological daughter—perhaps even better than they treated their actual daughter. As the women chatted, their eyes fell on Laurelle. Noticing their gaze, she looked down and left the hall as quickly as possible. The one who had started the conversation asked, "Don't you think that the person who passed us just now looks like Laurelle?" They turned to her. "Laurelle? No way. You know how gorgeous and amazing her figure is. How could that skinny woman be her? You must be joking." Not only did Laurelle and the woman who just passed by carry themselves differently, but Laurelle was the type of woman one could pick out from a crowd. However, that woman was completely unremarkable… Laurelle had already reached the second floor. She had no idea she'd become the topic of conversation. She reached the room and was about to walk in. However, when she heard a conversation, she felt like she'd been plunged into an icy bath. "Maverick, I heard that Laurelle was released from prison. Is that true?" "Laurelle? The one who used to follow Maverick around? When was she imprisoned? When did she do?" The Fletchers wanted to keep their reputation pristine, so no one outside the family knew about Laurelle going to prison. William had ensured no one had gotten wind of it. He had told others that she had gone to study abroad. Maverick glared at his friend, Fabian Lambert, who realized that he'd said something wrong. He whacked a palm onto his forehead and intentionally gave Maverick a good card. "Look at this mouth of mine. It got the better of me. I meant to say that she's come back from her studies abroad. When did she come back?" The other chewed on his cigarette and mocked, "Only you could mistake coming home from overseas as being released from jail. You must be daft." He chuckled and shot back, "Get lost. My mind is as sharp as ever, thanks." Tom Bately brought them back to their original topic. "With Laurelle back in the country, Maverick must now be surrounded by women, right? If I'm not mistaken, you two got engaged three years ago. When's the wedding, Maverick?" Laurelle paused. She could tell that they were playing poker inside. Had her room become a poker room? Fabian grinned weirdly. "Engaged? You must be joking. Getting married is just a matter of finding someone to boss you around. How boring. Don't you know what kind of man Maverick is? How could he be tied down by marriage?"