The First Heir

Wynn stood up. Wearing a white blazer, heels, a presentable black lace blouse, and white slacks, she walked out of the VP’s office.

“Mindy, I’m going out for a bit. Call me if you need me,” Wynn told her assistant, Mindy Scott.

“Sure thing, Wynn. Oh, do you want to take my car?” Mindy was always so cheerful and full of smiles. She was adorable.

Full of youth and vigor, she was.

“Alright.” Wynn accepted Mindy’s car keys and headed to the carpark alone.

She wanted to go to the bank and check how much money was in the card Philip gave her.

More than anything else, she was simply curious.

On the other end, Philip was just leaving a mall with a princess doll about half his height.

Mila had insisted on it.

As soon as he walked out of the door, though, he had barely taken a few steps before a flashy pink Porsche 911 swerved a beautiful 180 degrees and skidded to a halt right in front of Philip.

“F*ck!”

Philip resisted the urge to swear out loud. He walked around the car and tried to leave. This person was rich, after all. He should not provoke them.

However, the window on the pink Porsche wound down, revealing a young girl with long purple hair. She wore shades and had an eye-catching figure to go with it, looking just like one of those magical girls from TV.

The girl turned around and tilted

sweet, cute, and very

looked around suspiciously before pointing at himself and asking, “Are you talking to

fair legs with calf-high boots. For her top, she wore a plain white T-shirt. Presently, she grabbed the doll from Philip’s hands and stuffed it into the car,

but he got into

this car. It was the one

Theo’s

That seemed about right.

just drag a

pink Porsche’s engine roared to life, and it sped away from the

had barely left when a woman in a long black dress and carrying a

direction the Porsche had left, perplexed. Inwardly, she

What was happening here?

got into that Porsche, and that young

it out. Either Philip had a mistress, or he had a sugar

Joshua’s previous investigations were right on the

Philip Clarke

at the video she had filmed on her phone, Yolanda’s lips curved into a mean, cold

‘You’re dead meat, Clarke!

your wife Wynn finds out about this,

‘Take that, you sunuvab*tch!’

caller ID, she frowned her pretty brow and hesitated for a long time before she reluctantly accepted the call. A woman’s wails immediately blasted from the speaker. “Yola! Where are you? Why aren’t you at home? Your dad went out

was frustrated, but she had to reply exasperatedly, “Stop calling me, Mom. Just let them beat that useless gambling addict to

Smack!