Overwhelmed by the Billionaire’s Persistent Pursuit

Chapter 35: Greyson narrowed his eyes, his expression growing even colder. "What the hell happened? Don't forget-you're not supposed to cheat on me." Candice replied, "I know. I signed the agreement and remember the exact condition. I'm not allowed to sleep with another man and embarrass your family. But I can still go out, eat, drink, chat, dance, and sing with a friend, can't I? I don't think those count as cheating. I'm just trying to live my life." After a pause, Candice raised her head slightly and continued, "Don't be a hypocrite, Greyson.

Since I came to this party with you, why did you invite Madilyn too? Are you trying to show everyone you have both a wife and a girlfriend?" Candice didn't want to back down and spoke in an aggressive tone. Greyson was left speechless. Meanwhile, Madilyn, furious, retorted, "My aunt invited me here. Why shouldn't I come? Nobody said I wasn't allowed to attend. You're the one having an affair with another man. Why are you acting all holier-than-thou?" Then she turned to Greyson. "Look at her, Rey. She's getting more and more shameless," she said coquettishly, linking her arm with his.

Candice stared at their linked arms and scoffed. "After acting in front of Dr. Wilson and his wife, now you're downright unscrupulous, do you know that?" Greyson seemed to realize something and shook off Madilyn's grip. He turned to her and said, "Leave us, Madilyn. Don't show up to events like this without asking me first, okay?" "But, Rey..." Madilyn began to protest but found herself lost for words. She couldn't believe Greyson had just practically told her to get lost. He'd never done that before. "Don't make me say it again," Greyson warned through gritted teeth.

Seeing the anger in his face, Madilyn had no choice but to walk away. Before leaving, Madilyn didn't forget to throw Candice a dirty look. gⱯlnσνℓs﹒o is where stories live Once Madilyn was out of earshot, Greyson turned back to Candice. His voice took on a sharp edge. "How do you know him?" In the past, Milton had lived abroad most of the year and rarely stayed in Ploville. Milton and Greyson had been high school roommates, but Milton only stayed in the dormitory for a few days. Greyson knew Milton was born with a silver spoon-his family was the wealthiest in Ploville.

How could Candice even have crossed paths with him? Candice frowned at Greyson's question. It was clear he knew Milton, but she didn't want to explain. "I asked you a question," Greyson pressed, a hint of anger flashing through his dark eyes. "I don't have to spell out my relationship with a client to you, Greyson," she finally answered, pursing her lips. "Is he your client?" Greyson continued with an icier expression. "And do you go out to eat and sing love songs with every client?" Candice's heart skipped a beat. Then amusement curled her lips into a smile.

"Excuse me, who are you to ask me such questions? Are you my father? Husband? Boyfriend?" Her words dripped with contempt. "You're none of those things, right? So why should I answer to you?" Greyson pressed his lips into a thin line, a muscle twitching in his jaw, but he said nothing. How could he even question her? Her affairs were no longer his concern. Yet the password on her laptop was still his birthday. He looked straight into her eyes. "Is this your way of taking revenge on me?" Candice was astonished by the certainty underlying his voice. Was that the excuse he was telling himself?

The premise of revenge implied care, which she clearly wasn't showing. "Don't push me too far, or I won't be so softhearted," he warned. Candice lifted her chin and laughed out loud. Had he ever been softhearted toward her? How could he say such a thing? Though his threat didn't frighten her, it made her uncomfortable. "Let me give you a ride home." Greyson stepped forward and grabbed her wrist firmly. "You can't drive, and this place is remote." "No, thanks." Candice frowned and shook him off. "Greyson, we can't be friends." In the past three years, when had he ever cared about her?

He hadn't, and now it was pointless. . . .