The Girlboss Begs For Remarriage

Gene's joke left Walter pursing his lips.

Staring at the streaks of white hair above Gene's sideburns, he threw up his hands. "Surely you're joking, Mr. Pearce? We've yet to repay your grace for establishing ourselves in Riverton." "Oh, it's really nothing."

Gene smiled, waving him off as he sat down beside Walter. "So, how is Vicky doing? Has she recovered?"

"Yes, she has." Walter quickly nodded.

Gene nodded and sighed in admiration. "Well, Mr. Lawrence really excels in both martial arts and medicine—there's no malady he can't cure. The man even snatched my dying self away from the reaper's grasp."

The bookie nearby seized his opportunity right then, asking, "Sir, may I interest you in a bet? The most favorable odds are how many strikes that mysterious martial elite would last against Jaden Favoni."

The bookie was certainly sharply-knowing that those seated in the front row were all rich or powerful, it was the right choice to ask them to make bets. They would make a fortune either way!

However, one of Gene's bodyguards strode up, shoving the peddling bookie backward. "Stand back! Don't you see you're talking to Mr. Gene Pearce?!"

"W-What?!"

The bookie almost wet himself right then-that kindly balding middle-aged man was actually Gene Pearce, the richest man on the East Coast?!

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