Next Man, Better Plan novel Chapter 98

"Quennel, is the birthday dinner over? Did you give her the gift I prepared?"

Victoria had bought Wilma a brooch. It wasn't cheap for her; it had cost nearly half a year's salary.

Of course, Quennel hadn't given it to her. Wilma already despised Victoria; she would never have accepted a gift from her.

Quennel got straight to the point. "Are you pregnant?"

There was a noticeable pause on the other end, then Victoria's tone turned guarded. "Did Stephanie tell you?"

Quennel's voice was ice-cold. "Are you pregnant or not? Whose child is it? I want you to tell me clearly over the phone! Don't ruin my reputation!"

After a few seconds of silence, Victoria, guessing Stephanie was with him, said, "Quennel, have you forgotten? That night at the villa, you were drunk, and we... a little while after that, I found out I was pregnant. Of course the baby is yours."

Quennel's face darkened. "Which night!"

He had no memory of it. Wouldn't he know if he had slept with Victoria?

Hearing this, a mocking smile touched Stephanie's lips. So, Victoria had been to the villa more than once.

"The last time, Quennel. Where are you? I miss you. Can I come see you?"

The last time was a month ago, right when he and Stephanie were fighting the most. She had been threatening to sell the villa, and they'd had a huge argument that night. Afterwards, he'd gone to a bar and gotten drunk.

The bartender had called Victoria to pick him up. When he woke up the next morning, she was indeed at the villa, making him soup.

Quennel slammed his fist on the steering wheel, his expression a storm of conflict.

This couldn't be right. He had no memory of it at all. How could he have slept with Victoria?

"Quennel, are you driving?" Victoria heard a car horn and said with concern, "You're about to be a father, don't get too worked up... The baby and I..."

Quennel hung up before she could finish.

Stephanie watched the whole scene from the back seat with cold detachment.

Jonathan's mood soured.

Quennel was still reeling from Stephanie's words—"in the past"—when a series of sharp honks came from behind.

Already in a foul mood, Quennel was about to lose his temper when he saw the Cullinan in his rearview mirror.

That license plate was one of a kind in Veridian. He instantly knew who was inside.

At the same time, his phone rang. Jonathan's lazy voice came through the receiver. "Mr. Gonzalez, why are you blocking the gate? Are you leaving or not?"

Though they were rivals, they were both scions of Veridian's top families. On the surface, neither would ever openly admit to their animosity.

Quennel gripped his phone, his voice steady. "I was just dropping off my girlfriend. I'm leaving now."

Jonathan narrowed his eyes and bit down on a cigarette, crushing the filter. His tone was dripping with sarcasm. "Girlfriend? She can't even get into her own building. You're not doing a very good job, are you?"