Chapter 174: Chapter 174

Presque smirked at Clara’s shocked expression, which was depicted as if the world had come to an end.

’Did she think that they were in a marketplace where she could bargain for this? How naïve!’

"Money? Hahahahhhaha.... Do you have any? I don’t think that, with your attitude, you can even afford half of that. Besides, half will not be enough motivation for me to take this risk. So.... can you pay me?"

"I-" Clara bit her lips as the wheels in her brain spanned wildly.

... and that was when he dropped the bombshell of his subsequent request.

This exclamation was even louder than the first when Presque had requested for the 100 million.

"... but I’m married, and this is my husband’s case!"

"I am married, too," he pointed out calmly, "...but I am still willing to do this for you. So, what right do you have to preach righteousness to me?"

It was his emphasis on ’willing’ that almost sounded like Presque was doing a good deed for humanity and not soliciting for sex to overturn a case possibly.

Clara remained for a little longer and bowed, then suddenly got up. "I- I think that I made a mistake coming here, and thank you for your time, Mr. prosecutor. I will take my leave now."

With no further glance at the man, Clara stormed out, banging the door behind her.

"Who does he think he is?" Clara stomped her foot as angry tears brimmed up. She wiped them angrily, afraid that that wonderful receptionist would see her, but he was not at his post.

She stomped her feet, and her heels made echoing noises after her and hurried in the direction of the exit. She never noticed that the place was too deserted, left as if they were done for the day.

"I’ll find another way! That pervert!"

She talked loudly, not even interested in whether anyone heard her utterances, and left the prosecution’s premises immediately after that.

Clara walked around lazily and, a few minutes later, found herself in front of one of the biggest malls.

The sight of the place was enough to bring a broad smile to her. This was because shopping soothed her in more ways than she could count.

She entered the building and then headed for the bathroom first.

"Just look at what you have done, Clara! When are we going to get rid of these puffy eyes?"

She talked to herself as she examined her reflection in the mirror. Clara set her small purse down, took out a dainty makeup bag, and proceeded to apply her makeup expertly.

"Much better!" She said, admiring herself in the mirror.

She took in a deep breath. "Don’t let that pervert let you down!"

At the thought of the prosecutor, she sighed, and her mood turned gloomy yet again. A tinge of anger flashed in her eyes.

Her mind went back to the man. Even though he had been seated, he was the very definition of an overweight man with a huge pot belly, fudgy face and heavy breaths that were as if he was struggling to breathe. His eyes were narrow slits, almost like that of a reptile that watched your every move.

’I should have known that he was nothing to write home about when I first laid eyes on him! Uuhhh!’

She clenched the sink so hard that she nearly broke a nail, and the pain brought her mind back to the present!

She examined the nail to make sure it was okay; her eyes even watered slightly from that pain.

"Alright, Clara! Let’s go!"

She exited the bathroom with renewed confidence and entered one of the famous stalls.

Clara knew exactly what she wanted and started browsing the isles and the mannequins. Her eyes were definitely designed for the best of the best. Soon, they landed on the central display. She beckoned the shop attendant.

That was when she noticed a small crowd and a few whispers around her.

"Does she even have time to shop when her husband is going to trial tomorrow?"

"What a heartless woman! I can’t believe that she thinks this is right!"

"Never believe a woman! She is just a beauty on the outside but quite heartless!"

Clara ignored them, but she was fuming inside.

’What was it with them as to what I do with my time?’

"I’ll take this one."

Clara smiled sweetly at the attendant, who also tried to keep her composure as she shared the same view as the rest of the people there. However, she had a job to do and a commission to earn. That dress was one of the best, and she was beaming inside at how much she would make off of it. At that time, almost everyone on T-Vino Island knew about Wendover’s predicament.

Clara reached into her bag and handed her card to her. "Wrap that up for me."

The attendant bowed and then proceeded with the formalities.

A few of the women around huffed as the whispers continued all around them, but then,

"I’m sorry, ma’am, this card does not work. Do you have another?"

A small silence ensued, and then a fit of giggles were heard all around.

"Serves her right!" One of the richly dressed women said with all smiles.

Presque leaned back in his chair, hands clasped, after Clara Wendover had left. Contrary to anyone’s beliefs, he was not angry—not one bit. He actually thought Clara was funny.

’I don’t lose either way.’ He thought. At that moment, the only thing on his mind was Clara’s fine ass as she stormed out.

"James!" Presque smiled a very cruel and eerie smile.

"How could you keep all that fineness to yourself? That lucky bastard! However, with him gone, who is going to take care of that poor, vulnerable woman?"

He closed his eyes as if to try and keep Clara’s memory in his head longer. He remembered his wife telling him about how Clara Wendover had been ostracised and abandoned by all. That was part of the reason that he had been very bold with his demands. If Clara had even her daughter’s help, then she wouldn’t have come to him begging in that miserable state because money was nothing to Ian Thornston, and 100 million was probably what he would use in one trip.

"Well, well, well, it is what it is! I would have given anything for a taste of her, but..."

Presque got up and started heading home as well.

In the suburbs and in the middle of the slum, a group of men sat outside smoking as they talked excitedly among themselves.

It was late evening, but that was also the exact time of day that they preferred. Just inside the small house in front of which the thugs were, two thick-tall men sat on equally dilapidated couches. One had his legs stretched out in a makeshift cast, and his eyes were dilated as well. The other had a neck brace, and when he opened his mouth, it was almost like a ghost talking.

"I just received a text!" He said in his croaky, hoarse, and badly sounding voice that struggled to come out.

"STFU! Didn’t that quack doctor tell you not to talk? Any children around will be scared shitless from just your voice!"

The other with the leg cast shouted at him, wincing at the sudden movement. Upon closer look, one would notice that these were the level-headed and bull-headed thugs. It had been days, but they were nowhere near their former selves.

To say they regretted going against Ava was an understatement. To compound their predicament, they had received a punishment from their boss after he found out what they had done. In short, they had to bear the pain of their own stupidity and adhere to their group’s rules of disobeying their boss.

The icing on the cake was the man hanging in the room in front of them. He was hanged up by his arms. His body was riddled with bruises and swellings. It was a pathetic and painful sight to behold. It was none other than Marvin, Ava’s brother.

The two and the gang had spared no expense to catch him finally. As a gang, they tried not to kill, but Marvin had pushed all their buttons.

The subtle rise and fall of his chest, however, showed that he was still alive. One did not even have to examine him to see that he probably had a few broken ribs as well.

"What text did you receive?" Level-headed asked just as one of the broken doors swung open, revealing the gory scene inside. A girl lay on the only mattress on the floor. Her face was equally bruised, and her right eye was nearly swollen shut. One look was enough to tell anyone the ordeal that she had gone through.

A thin man walked out, zipping up his jeans as he took a deep swing of his smoke.

"Anyone wants a turn with her?" He asked as he walked out to join his brothers outside, not before kicking Marvin in the guts.

He whimpered as he was too tired and pained to even scream out. A trickle of blood seeped out of his mouth. The man paid no attention to Marvin, as that was what they had all been doing all day.

"She’s quite the sweet one too." He added, and they all howled in laughter and whistles.

"Well, no one told her to wrong the mistress!"

"Hahahahahhhaaaaa!" They all burst out laughing.

"Make sure to capture a picture and send it back to the mistress. That will make her happy!"

The thin man stopped.

"Let me do that now."

He walked back inside and took as many pictures as possible, smiling wickedly. However, instead of going out, he closed the door yet again.

"Are you going to show me the message, or do you want to join the fun?"

Bullheaded kissed his teeth, and he threw his phone at his friend, who opened the messages.

Just then, a ’ding!’ sounded as another message came in.

The first read, "Take care of her!"

The second was the picture of the person.

Level-headed’s eyes widened, and he threw the phone away from him as if he had been scalded!

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