"I never thought I'd break off my engagement with the Lynettes, only to learn that you’ve become their darling daughter," Ophelia said with a raised eyebrow.
Brittany stirred her coffee, looking as calm as the eye of a storm. "Life's full of surprises. Didn't see this one coming either."
Ophelia leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've met a few of the Lynettes before. Leila is a piece of work. Watch your back."
"Ophelia?" A frigid voice cut through the café chatter.
Ophelia’s smile vanished. It was her—the woman who had thrown a wrench in her wedding.
"What do you want?"
The woman strode over, looking down her nose at Ophelia, one hand cradling her protruding belly. "I suggest you keep your distance from Vincent Lynette. I'm pregnant. Be a good girl, will you?"
Ophelia couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Vincent and I called off our engagement a long time ago. If you have a problem, take it up with him."
She didn't need this—her prancing around, a living, breathing annoyance.
The woman’s face turned tomato-red. "Are you still clinging to Vincent behind the scenes? Otherwise, why wouldn't he come see me? It must be you, keeping him from calling me. That's downright immoral. Why can't you just let us be happy? I'm carrying his child!"
Ophelia chuckled dryly. "Miss, just to remind you, even if Vincent didn't marry me, he's not going to marry you either. If he truly loved you, he wouldn't have gotten engaged to me, let alone have you pregnant before marriage!"
Vincent, portraying charm in public, yet entangled with his ex behind closed doors, all the while professing his love for her?
His love wasn't for her; it was for the power and advantage gained from aligning with her Joyner family. And this woman before her was nothing more than a consolation prize—a sad realization indeed.
The woman was fuming.
Without another word, Ophelia whipped out her phone and dialed Vincent's number.
He picked up immediately. "Ophelia, have you decided to forgive me?"
The woman's face drained of color.
"Vincent, we're done. Keep your woman in check and out of my sight," Ophelia said, dropping an address before ending the call.
"I'm not marrying you," Vincent declared, producing a bank card. "There's twenty million on this. Take it."
The woman was stunned. "Vincent…"
"It was you who drugged me, leading to this pregnancy," Vincent said sternly. "You've ruined my engagement, and my family is disappointed. Consider this compensation."
"Vincent, I don't care about your status. I just want to be with you," she pleaded, refusing the money.
Vincent’s demeanor turned cold as he presented her with two options. "Take the money and arrange for an abortion, or I'll ensure the problem is 'taken care of,' and you won't see a dime."
If it weren't for her schemes, he wouldn't have ended things with Ophelia.
The woman had never seen this side of Vincent. She was petrified.
With determined steps, Vincent walked away.
The woman attempted to follow him, but suddenly found herself surrounded by men dressed in black. They forcefully ushered her into an old van, whisking her away from the café, and from Vincent's life.
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