22 Chapter 122: This Woman is a Bit Hypocritical
Photo Mag could even process it, Xaviera tapped her sh fingertips on the coffee table and pouted her full her tone carrying complaint: “So this is Moore Mamet’s kind and gentle fiancée you mentioned? I don’t feel impressed, kinda hypocritical…”
A fire instantly shot up in Mag’s head!
How could this woman talk like this? What did she mean by she wasn’t that great? What did she mean by a bit hypocritica!? Who did she think she was?!
Moore furrowed his brows and pulled Mag to his side, reading her “Miss, Mag was just trying to help you; you don’t have to appreciate it, but there’s no need to step on her too, right?”
Xaviera looked at him with a half–smile.
Teaching someone a lesson on my territory, and
Chalaunes for their own good? Caleb Mamet
es cold and dan
Wonder when
ight to meddle in my
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affairs? Moore, have you forgotten the rules of the Mamet family?”
Moore shivered all over, stammering in explanation:
“F–Family Head, I didn’t… Mag just meant to give a friendly reminder, knowing you dislike women, so she…”
“Dislike women?” Caleb laughed lightly: “Even if I don’t like women, I wouldn’t dislike my own wife, right? A guest who doesn’t know the situation presumes to ask my wife to leave; that’s quite impressive.”
Caleb’s voice was cold, and every word he said struck Moore and Mag hard in the heart: “Butler, show our guests out.”
Moore and Mag were both dumbfounded.
What did he mean by not disliking his own wife? So this woman was actually Caleb’s wife? Mrs. Mamet?!
How was that possible?!
He wanted to deny it subconsciously because he hadn’t heard of Caleb getting married, but reason silenced him. The family head held an unrivaled status in the Mamet family, and nobody had the authority to meddle with whatever he wanted, including his
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marriage.
A woman who could live in Lowen Clubhouse, acknowledged by Caleb, even if she hadn’t married him and received recognition from the rest of the Mamet family, still wasn’t someone an offshoot like him could compare with.
Mag wasn’t as calm as Moore; or perhaps she had already been so spoiled that she was oblivious to her own limits. Her face pale, she retorted: “How is it possible that she’s Mrs. Mamet!”
Xaviera looked up at her: “Why is it impossible?”
“That’s because…”
Mag was about to say that there was no way Caleb would like a woman like her and that he should like someone like her instead. Before she could say it, however, Moore grabbed her hand with great strength, hurting her and stopping her words.
Xaviera clicked her tongue, propping her chin on one hand as she spoke lazily: “Miss Mag Evans, you’re quite interesting. Caleb already told you that I’m Mrs. Mamet, yet you still insist it’s impossible. I’m really
curious how you determined this? Miss Mag Evans,
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from the moment you entered and tried to remind me to leave as the hostess…so you want my position, don’t you?”
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