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.

get into the car.” The girl turned around and tilted

cute, and

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

slender, 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

he recognized this car. It was the one Tiger Zander drove last

this girl Theo’s

That seemed about right.

just drag a man into her car in

life, and

in a long black dress and carrying a handbag walked

looking in the direction the Porsche had left, perplexed. Inwardly, she muttered to herself, “That was Philip Clarke,

What was happening here?

Porsche, and that young girl

it out. Either Philip had a mistress, or he

investigations were right on

Philip Clarke was

she had filmed on her

‘You’re dead meat, Clarke!

your wife Wynn finds out about this, you’ll be in for

‘Take that, you sunuvab*tch!’

call. A woman’s wails immediately blasted from the speaker. “Yola! Where are you? Why

nightmarish voice. She was frustrated, but she had to reply exasperatedly, “Stop calling me, Mom. Just let them

Smack!