Chapter 112

Brielle’s expression darkened, but before she could utter a word, Kenzo interjected with a counter. “Mr. Spencer, do you always speak so harshly to your fiancée?”

The word “fiancée” struck a nerve in Spencer. The disgust and disdain on his face were as clear as day, as if Brielle were some piece of trash, disgusting to even glance at.

“Brielle is just trash. She deserves nothing more than my contempt. Kenzo, don’t tell me you’ve grown a soft spot for her? There are a million women pining for you. Can you even keep track? And remember how Tiffanie got turned down by you in public? Then she went on a spree, living it up. It didn’t seem to affect you one bit. Mr. Kenzo, your heart is as hard as stone. What right do you have to judge me?”

Spencer said this with a smug tone, not feeling the slightest bit ashamed for embarrassing his own cousin. In his eyes, Tiffanie was no better–had she any self–respect, she wouldn’t have stirred up so many scandals. She and Brielle were cut from the same cloth, utterly lost without

a man.

“Having dinner with Brielle, don’t you ever think of Tiffanie? They’re the same kind of woman, groveling at men’s feet, desperate for attention–it’s sickening.”

Spencer was speaking out of sheer anger, his words as harsh as could be. By the time he regained his composure, Brielle’s slap had already connected.

“Smack!”

and blood trickled from the corner

right did she have? Wasn’t

there was an unmistakable twinge of

your business. We’ll annul this engagement sooner or later. Why the temper tantrum? Are you disgusted by me but also waiting for your turn? Too bad, you’re not even on my radar. You’ve been out of the game

of the game–such humiliating

reddened from the force of

of surprise, probably not expecting her

free to contact me anytime. But

a cough, “Sure, I’ll get in touch.”

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