Billionaire's Match

Chapter 517 Michael's words fell like hammer strikes. He fixed his gaze on Mr. Olson, calm yet utterly commanding, and the intensity of his stare was almost suffocating. Mr. Olson felt a flutter of unease in his chest. Michael was, after all, a member of the Morrison family. No one wanted to offend him-and if the situation escalated, it would bring shame and give Winnie an opening to exploit. Mrs. Olson fumed inwardly. How could she have expected Michael to care so much about Winnie? Even if they dared to force her, there was no way they could take on Michael too. "Mr.

Olson, | must remind you," Michael said steadily, "Winnie is not just an employee at Morrison Group. She is also Khloe's friend. "And Khloe has the backing of not only the Morrison Group but also the Hunt family. You wouldn't want to offend a whole group of people over one person, would you?" Michael's words hit their mark. He could see the doubt flicker across Mr. Olson's face and had already guessed the reason behind the Olson family's actions tonight. The Olsons had always been close with Clarice. But times had ---- changed.

forward tensely, and Veronica opened her mouth to intervene. Mr. Olson, however, remained silent. Without waiting for any orders, Michael strode confidently into Winnie's bedroom. His memory of her room dated back to their university days. It was still the side bedroom connected to the study, largely unchanged. Winnie's bedroom was

rental-the furniture was more than she would have had in her own room. Winnie stood at the doorway, and when she saw Michael, her eyes brightened. Her expression was a mix of relief and worry. Michael immediately noticed the bruise at the comer of her mouth and the faint handprint across her cheek. His brow furrowed as he quickly lifted her chin, "Who did this to you?" Winnie hesitated, glancing at the people behind Michael, but she ---- said nothing. It was obvious-it could only have been Mr. and Mrs. Olson. Michael took her hand

her head high, pretending the Olson family couldn't touch her, only she knew the truth: she had been humiliated, powerless, and had long since surrendered herself. She had learned to endure, to resist pain and resentment, but had quietly abandoned her own sense of agency. Not because she didn't want help, but because she didn't want