It was Rosalind. She held the invitation between her fingers, the corners of her eyes lifting in a cool, wicked smile. “Go back and tell her that we will be there on time. You, on the other hand, should hope nothing happens to the Gonzalez family before then.”
“You think something could happen to the Gonzalez family?” George scoffed as if he’d heard the funniest joke in the world. “Let me tell you something! No one in Sol dares to threaten us. In Sol, the Gonzalez family is the law. You’d do well to remember that, little girl.”
“I’ll remember,” Rosalind said, biting down on a piece of hard candy, her eyes glinting.
George dismissed her as naive and arrogant, flicking his sleeve before striding away.
Rosalind watched his back, her eyes narrowing slightly.
At first, George didn't think much of his wrenched arm. But once he got into his car at the end of the alley, his expression changed dramatically.
Why did his hand feel completely numb?
George tried to shake it, only to find that the connection between his joints seemed to have severed. His arm hung limp and useless.
“Hurry! Home! I need my aunt!”
George shouted, breaking into a cold sweat.
Could his arm be ruined?
“No, it can’t be,” George muttered to himself, his face pale. “My aunt can definitely fix this!”
The driver, unsure what had happened, glanced back at him. “Young Master?”
“Faster! Go faster!” George roared in a panic.
Back at the alley entrance, Rosalind withdrew her gaze, a hint of fury still lingering in her eyes.
The onlookers were still staring at them.
Mrs. Yates Sr. was clearly shaken.
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