Chapter 182: The Death-Courting Galloway Father and Daughter (7)
"The Grant Group of Aethelgard is immensely wealthy and powerful. Their companies are all over the country, and they even have businesses here in Sanford! As long as the Grant Family makes a move, our Galloway Family’s auction house will be brought back from the dead! Do you think you still stand a chance?" Michelle Galloway glanced at her, her eyes filled with boundless contempt.
"And what makes you so sure the Grant Family will help your Galloway Family?" Seraphina Sterling was genuinely stunned by Michelle Galloway’s bizarre logic. ’How did they even come up with this, fantasizing they could persuade Terrence Grant to step in!’
Michelle Galloway’s cheeks suddenly flushed, making her look like a shy maiden. "The General Manager of The Grant Group is the second young master of the Grant Family. If I become the second Mrs. Grant, do you think the Grant Family won’t step in then?"
Seraphina Sterling was speechless. ’...Become the second Mrs. Grant? She’s certainly ambitious! It’s a good thing I have excellent self-control, or I would’ve just done a spit-take with my chrysanthemum tea. Terrence Grant is no ordinary man. He’s more guarded than anyone, his facade thicker than armor. The woman capable of taming a man like that probably hasn’t been born yet!’
"Well then, let me wish you great success."
Michelle Galloway thought Seraphina was intimidated by the mention of The Grant Group, which only made her more smug. "Now you can give up this private room, can’t you? A man of Mr. Grant’s noble status deserves nothing but the best accommodations!"
Seraphina Sterling leaned back in her chair. "Apologies, but the person I’m meeting is also a person of status. This private room is mine. The door is right behind you. I won’t see you out."
"Seraphina Sterling—" Michelle Galloway stomped her foot in anger. "Are you determined to do this the hard way? I was trying to be nice for old times’ sake by giving you a warning. If Mr. Grant has to get involved, things won’t be this simple! If you’re smart, you’ll leave at once. We’ll even pay for your trouble! But if you wait until Mr. Grant arrives... well, I can’t promise what might happen then!"
Michelle Galloway was getting ahead of herself, basking in borrowed glory.
"It wouldn’t matter even if the Mr. Grant you’re talking about came here himself. This is my private room! I refuse to believe that the great Mr. Grant of Aethelgard would stoop to fighting a young woman like me for a room!" Today, Seraphina Sterling was determined to stand her ground against them.
"Seraphina Sterling, how could the riff-raff you’re meeting possibly be more distinguished than Mr. Grant? Get out now. I’m taking this room!" Michelle Galloway commanded.
The words were barely out of her mouth when the door was pushed open.
Today, Ronan Winters was dressed in a pair of black, form-fitting leather pants with subtle patterns traced in silver thread along the sides, and a pale silver trench coat. He was fashion-forward, avant-garde—an undeniable hunk. Michelle Galloway stared, her eyes glazed over, on the verge of drooling.
Ronan Winters swept a severe gaze over the Galloway father and daughter, his thin lips curling into a cold sneer.
"Since when am I, Ronan Winters, considered riff-raff? Miles Galloway, no wonder your business is collapsing. You can’t even weather a minor squall like this. Judging by your family’s lack of discipline, I can only imagine the state of your employees. A company like that has no future—it’s impossible for it to last!"
The moment he saw Ronan Winters, Miles Galloway’s heart sank. That was the Young Master of The Underground! ’If a man of his status is considered riff-raff,’ he thought, ’then what does that make me? I’m not even worthy of being called dust!’
Miles Galloway shot Michelle Galloway a glare of bitter disappointment. It was all because she was too impulsive. The Galloway Family was already in a precarious position; if they offended Ronan Winters now, they might as well just declare bankruptcy. There would be no point in trying anything else, because it would all be futile.