Larissa's Game of Thrones (Larissa) novel Chapter 133

Finley sat bolt upright, his eyes turning cold as steel. “Your threats won’t work on me, Larissa. Even if I didn’t intervene, Leopold is perfectly capable of handling this himself!”

Another laugh. “Oh, so brave. I’m just kidding. I actually called because I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it?”

“I’m putting in an herb garden in my yard. I need you to come over in the next couple of days to till the soil and plow the land. And pick up some fertilizer for me while you’re at it.”

“What?!” Finley shot to his feet, feeling his teeth grind together. “Larissa, don’t push me too far! I am the eldest grandson of the Judson family! You want me to do manual labor for you?!”

He had received the finest education, and now he was the president of a major corporation. And she wanted him to plow a field? Was she treating him like a farm animal?

“My, my. It seems manual labor is a fate worse than death for you,” Larissa’s voice dripped with amusement.

The memory of the poison coursing through his veins made him swallow his rage. “I don’t know how to do that kind of work. It would be a waste of time.”

“As long as it gets done. Besides, it’s your time to waste. Whenever you finish preparing the soil is when I’ll start planting.” She was clearly just toying with him.

Finley was speechless.

“So, are you going to do it? Or should I just withhold the next dose of your antidote?”

A single dose only kept the poison at bay for a week.

“…I’ll do it.”

…

At Regal City’s largest auction house, the manager, Mr. Lawson, saw Larissa being led in by a receptionist, and his eyes lit up. He hurried over to greet her personally. “My dear girl, you’ve come! What treasures have you brought me today?”

Larissa handed a wooden box to the receptionist. “Nothing new for now. Just more of the high-demand herbs for ailments common in the elderly.”

Mr. Lawson eagerly took the box and opened it. Inside were three herbs of exceptional quality. “Excellent, excellent! I’ll arrange for the next auction immediately. Same terms as before, a five percent commission.”

“Fine,” Larissa agreed. She had worked with him long enough to trust him. “Just deposit the funds into the usual account.”

“Of course.” Mr. Lawson closed the box, a thought occurring to him. “I must say, I was quite surprised to learn that you are the long-lost heiress of the Judson family.”