I turned to the side and brushed his hand away.
"Why can you come, but I can't? We're both guests once we enter, does that mean you're more distinguished than me? It's all in the past, Mr. Harris, you should let it go."
He furrowed his brow, a gesture he always made when he was about to lose his temper.
"Taylor, I'll say this one last time—don't make a scene."
Seeing Sarah walking over with her back straight and high heels clicking confidently, Michael grew anxious.
"We’re just a casual friendship, remember? The rest, we’ll talk about it later."
"Are you done chatting with your friend?" Sarah nodded at me, then naturally linked her arm with Michael’s, striking the pose of a capable leading lady.
"Mr. Thompson and my grandfather are old friends and with that connection, we should be able to discuss a 10% share of the Harris Family’s market. I've done what I can, but if you're busy, then we can let it go this time..."
"No, I’m not busy!" Michael averted his gaze. "Greetings are done, now we need to focus on the important matters."
He shot me a warning glance and pulled Sarah to walk away.
But Sarah didn’t move. Instead, she provocatively lifted her chin towards me, her beautiful red lips parting and closing like a snake flicking its tongue. "Miss, haven't we met somewhere before?"
Michael immediately furrowed his brow, watching me warily, waiting for my response.
"I feel like I've seen you before," I replied.
Sarah probably thought I would be intimidated by her because of her high status.
But why should I?
I was the one who’d been mistreated, the one who’d been played.
I casually opened my phone, scrolled through the constant messages Sarah had been sending me over the past three months, flaunting her love. Without hesitation, I threw it right in her face.
"WhatsApp! You've been sending me all these 'show-off love' messages every day. My profile picture is my own photo, how come you don't even recognize me now?"
I scrolled up the screen and continued, "Isn’t this the picture of the new house you sent me? I was so busy that I forgot to reply. I’ve long since had enough of that crappy house, so I gave it to you. Don’t get too happy."
Sarah's fake smile froze on her face and she gritted her teeth, warning me, "Don't go too far!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Is this too far?"
I went on, "When you sent those pictures of you two in bed in the dead of night, that wasn’t too much? When you flaunted the marks all over Michael's neck to show off, that wasn’t too much? When you accidentally exposed your sexy dress, that wasn’t too much?"
With every word I spoke, Sarah’s face paled more.
She anxiously glanced at Michael, but I blocked her view. "Are you so afraid of me? Am I such a big threat to you?"
"You said it yourself, something you pay for is no different from a drink, right? So is it that I'm just too charming, or is my drink too strong?"
She was left speechless by my words, unable to defend herself.
I crossed my arms, clicking my tongue and shaking my head. "They say you're the most elegant woman in the capital, but why do I sense you're acting pure and innocent while actually being manipulative?"
"Michael." Sarah’s face instantly turned ugly and she looked at Michael with pleading eyes, hoping for help.
I thought that Michael probably understood.
But he roughly yanked me away from Sarah, standing in front of her protectively and coldly scolded me, "Taylor! I warn you, don’t speak out of turn. Sarah has a good temper, but I’m not as easy to deal with."
But I wasn’t one to be easily threatened. "What’s wrong? She’s your woman, aren’t you going to introduce her? Your little snack, was it me who taught your fiancée how to make it for you?"
Michael's expression stiffened and there was a surge of angry flames in his eyes. He gritted his teeth and coldly said to me.
"Apologize to Sarah now and I can pretend nothing happened."
I couldn't be bothered to listen to him. I turned to leave, but my wrist was grabbed and I was yanked back off balance. "Did I give you permission to leave?"
The next moment, a strong hand gripped Michael's wrist tightly. "My fiancée doesn't need your permission."
