Tiffany shot the man a questioning look before her periphery vision espied a flitting but striking silhouette: Bernadette Legrand, the twenty-nine years-old artist renowned in international art scenes. She had found this company after all!
Aye tightened her hand around Tiffany’s. “Okay, calm down, Tiffany. Calm. The. Eff. Down. Now that she’s here, Mr. West will have no choice but to give you an explanation now, right? Or else, he would reeeeally cross the line — ”
Tiffany, however, was not one to silently bear. The fact that she had been patient up to today belied how much she loathed the entire debacle. Admittedly, she might be able to continue the role of an observer as she monitored the affair before any action, but if this woman had the audacity to appear right by their doorstep, hell was she going to play blind!
With a glower, Tiffany followed them out of the door. Worried about her wellbeing, Aye sprung behind her after mustering her courage.
Soon, the two arrived at the lounge on the first floor. Even from a distance, they could see Jackson engaging in a face-to-face conversation with that woman ahead.
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