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Ready to Rule: The Real Heiress Strikes Back novel Chapter 569

He never expected it to be Lydia.

When Jenson spoke, Lydia just gave a cool, almost mocking smile. “No.”

She brushed past him and didn’t look back. Lydia wasn’t about to fall for Jenson’s sudden apology. She knew it was all for show.

Once Lydia and Juna had walked off, Milana glared at Jenson, who was still standing there like he’d turned to stone. “You really thought she’d care about the past? So what if you hit me for her? She’s born ungrateful. She’s just going to stand by and watch Smith Corporation go under.”

Jenson turned, his eyes cold and sharp. “You insisted on throwing her out of the family, ang that’s why we were in this mess.”

Milana’s eyes went wide. “You’re blaming me?”

“If not you, then who? You said her family was too poor and that we couldn’t let the Norwoods take advantage of us. Well, look at things now. However poor the Norwoods used to be, with Lydia back, they’re about to hit the jackpot. Idiot.”

Jenson felt like he might explode from anger. Milana was clueless and stubborn, and now they were both paying the price. But he wasn’t going to give up just yet. He’d go talk to his mothe. Surely she knew Lydia was the founder of LYLX. If she stepped in and everyone apologized properly, Lydia would help them out. She had to.

Lydia left the charity gala early. Connor was waiting outside, ready to take her to dinner. He was a little annoyed she hadn’t told him about the event in advance.

She had just stepped out the front doors when someone called out behind her.

“Miss Norwood.”

Lydia stopped and glanced back.

Lincoln jogged up to her, grinning. “Miss Norwood, I’m Lincoln. I grew up with Juna, but she’s never mentioned you before.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow. “So?”

Lincoln chuckled, trying to play it cool. “Since we’re all friends here, do you mind if I have your number?”

He didn’t expect a cold, commanding voice to cut through the air. “A hundred times better than me?”

Lincoln froze, looking up.

Not far ahead stood a tall, intimidating man, easily over six feet. He wore a black, custom suit and carried himself with the kind of confidence that was impossible to ignore. His eyes were icy and sharp, like he could see through every lie. His dark hair caught the breeze, each strand full of wild energy. His chin was lifted, lips pressed tight in a way that brooked no argument.

Lincoln’s eyes went wide. For a second, it felt like all the blood in his body stopped flowing.

What the hell… Was he just tired, seeing things?

Who was this guy?

He rubbed his eyes, almost afraid to look again.

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