My best friend is marrying my husband novel Chapter 70

Chapter2

What a joke.

That kind of line used to be something the Black Viper Syndicate said to others.

And now it was being thrown in my face?

I chuckled coldly and narrowed my eyes.

“You really think you’re somebody just because you’re hiding behind Charles Whitmore? I bet he wouldn’t say something

that stupid. So who the hell are you?”

“What the fuck?!”

“Yes, I mean you’re stupid.”

“You,bitch!”

She raised her hand to slap me, but I dodged, and she fell flat on the floor.

“Wow, Bianca. One harsh sentence and you go full performance mode with a faceplant? Thanks for the commitment.”

She scrambled up and pointed at me, seething. “You’ll regret this!”

I said flatly. “If you don’t clean that mouth, I might just help you do it.”

My dad had made sure I was trained by some of the best martial arts instructors in the country.

Women like Bianca? I could take three of her with one hand.

She faltered under my glare and fell quiet.

More and more people had gathered around to gawk.

I wasn’t interested in putting on a show for strangers.

I picked up my card from the ground, bought the bag, and turned to leave.

But Bianca blocked me again.

That was her last chance.

I raised my foot, fully intending to kick her out of my way.

“Stop!”

A deep male voice rang out behind me.

Bianca instantly put on a pitiful face and ran over.

“Mr. Whitmore, thank God you’re here. She’s been bullying me this whole time…”

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I turned around,and yeah, okay. I understood why my dad said I’d like this guy.

Broad shoulders, long legs, sharp jawline.

He looked like a damn hunk.

Fine. I’d give him one more chance. For the face.

I offered him a pleasant smile. “Mr. Whitmore? I’m Evelyn Black,your arranged date today. I’m sure your father

mentioned me?”

Charles Whitmore’s dad used to be a nobody under my father’s command.

It was only because my dad saw potential in his business mind that the Whitmore family got where they are now.

Charles gave me a once–over, top to bottom, and sneered.

Twenty–eight and still a virgin? Sorry, not my type.”

His words hit like a slap.

So being twenty–eight automatically made me old?

I had standards, dignity, self–control.

And this was what I got?

“Did you eat shit before you came here? Or you’re born with a filthy mouth? What about your basic manners?”

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