The Billionaire’s Maid Bride (Flanagan and Allison)

Chapter 62



Chapter 62

James pondered momentarily, then scoffed, “So it’s Kurt”

Suddenly, there was a loud noise of something hitting the door. The lock shook violently, followed by

the sound of it turning. The doorman must have been scared the door would break, so he handed over

the key

The door was opened from the outside, and a group of people walked in

Pointing at Allison, Kurt immediately ordered his bodyguards. “This woman, take her away!

Allison’s face turned pale instantly

“So it’s you daring to cause a scene here.” Lucian extinguished his cigarette. He looked up, his eyes as

deep as the abyss, staring intently at Kurt.

Kurt felt an overwhelming pressure on him. He felt a sudden chill down his spine, and his drunkenness

vanished.

He glanced at the three people in the box, one a cripple, one looking like a gentlemanly student, and

one man who frightened him.

He was a bit scared Normally, he would have checked their identities first.

But now, he had been openly insulted and immediately angry. He pointed at Lucian and shouted, “Who

the hell are you, daring to curse at me like that! Are you this waitress’s little lover and here to play

hero?”

It looked like they were about to fight in the box.

The manager rushed over, “Gentlemen, please calm down.”

They were all guests here, and she couldn’t afford to offend anyone. If a fight broke out, she would be

held responsible. She was worried, where was Sarah?

The manager glanced at Allison, signaling her to come over, “Please apologize to the gentleman; cool

him down a bit.”

But Kurt wasn’t so easily handled. He pushed the manager away, telling his bodyguards, “Take this

bitch to my bed and give this man a good beating”

He looked at Allison with a lewd smile, “Babe, your lover is unreliable. Follow me, and you’ll live a good

life…”

The two bodyguards grabbed Allison’s wrists. She screamed in terror.

Before she could react, a hand wrapped around her waist, and she was pulled against a warm and

familiar chest, the scent of tobacco and alcohol wafting into her nose.

She looked at Lucian’s profile, a face she had seen countless times in her dreams

At the same time, a silver fork from a fruit platter flew out, embedding itself in a bodyguard’s hand. He

screamed in pain. Lucian kicked away the other bodyguard

He seemed to be angry.

His expression darkened even more, “Where’s Samuel? Get him here!”

Meanwhile, in the vice president’s office on the seventh floor.

A woman in a tight–fitting magenta dress with a slender waist sat on a man who seemed to be in his Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

mid–thirties, “You said you’d give me the alcohol business on the sixth and seventh floors this month,

why did you give it to Sarah? You can’t break your promise.”

The Red Jack Club had another rule.

The sixth, seventh, and eighth floors were VIP boxes, only the high–end guests of the Red Jack Club

had access, and the alcohol consumption was naturally much higher.

The first and second floors were for serving some scattered and out–of–town guests.

The third, fourth, and fifth floors mainly catered to regular guests.


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