“Mm. Come over here and have breakfast,” Francesca said to Monica.
Monica greeted Layla respectfully and took a seat next to Francesca.
Layla noticed that Monica was wearing an earpiece.
“Don't lie to me. The security system in the house was going crazy, yet you're telling me nothing is wrong? I don't believe you!” Donald burst into the dining room, clearly frustrated. “Um, Ms. Cece, you know about Danrique's situation, right? Quick! Tell us how he is doing now.”
“Have you eaten breakfast yet, Uncle Donald? If you haven't, please join us,” Francesca said nonchalantly.
Donald's face and neck were red from how agitated he was. “I'm not in the mood for breakfast at a time like this! Are you even aware of how dire the situation is?”
“Sir.” Layla interrupted him and growled in irritation, “It's still early in the morning, and the first thing you did once you came in here was to yell at Francesca. Where are your manners?”
“And who are you?” Donald glared at her angrily.
“This is Ms. Layla,” Norah answered in a small voice.
Donald yelled furiously, “You're not even married yet, but you're already bringing your people to stay with you in this house! Do you take this place to be a refugee camp?”
“You...”
“Someone get him out of here,” Francesca instantly called out.
“Uh...” Sloan hesitated for a moment, then immediately replied, “Understood!”
With that, he gestured to his subordinates, and they promptly dragged Donald out of the house.
“What are you doing?”
Donald didn't expect Francesca to be that bold. Even Danrique had never treated him this way. “How dare you do this to me? Have all of you lost your minds? This is the Lindbergs' property, not the Felches'!” he hollered lividly.
Unfortunately for him, his cries fell on deaf ears. Without Danrique around, everyone present was loyal to only Francesca.
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