Chapter 113: Chapter 113

Celestial Queen: Revenge Is Sweet When You’re A Zillionaire HeiressWords: 2922

Chapter 113:

Harlee’s final statement was aimed at Etta.

Fletcher’s foolish actions were closely linked to Etta’s manipulations. She resolved that once she earned enough to pay Rhys back, she would give Etta a “huge gift”!

“Harlee!” Fletcher clenched his teeth.

“Fletcher,” Etta said, clinging to his hand, her voice dripping with sweetness and sorrow.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault. You wouldn’t have been reprimanded by Harlee if it hadn’t been for me. If she decides to report this, I’m fear…”

“Fear what?” Fletcher glowered in the direction Harlee had gone, his hands balled into fists so tight that they nearly drew blood.

“Let her report it. I’m curious to see what scenes she’s able to make.”

“Does she really think she can do as she pleases just because she’s back with the Sanderson family? Impossible! Above all else, the Sanderson family prides itself on proper conduct!”

“Harlee is indeed far too impulsive. I could tolerate her temperament, but if she behaves like that in public, she’s bound to be dealt with harshly.

Fletcher, you’re correct to guide her.”

Fletcher glanced at the seemingly obedient Etta. Why couldn’t the well-mannered and sensible Etta be his actual sister?

“Etta, you’re too soft-hearted and susceptible to bullying.

But don’t worry. I’ll look after you. If you ever feel aggrieved, just let me know.”

Etta burst into tears immediately.

“Fletcher… Well, I don’t want to handle pythons as per Harlee’s previous requests. I’m frightened.”

Discover more at gαℓησνℯℓs․com

“Why should you have to? Let Harlee handle them herself!”

After leaving the Sanderson family residence, Harlee drove to the Tartarus Club. On the surface, the Tartarus Club appeared to be just another club, but it actually served as a black market, accessible only to a select few.

To handle Matteo’s request, Harlee had scheduled a meeting with Ritchie here tonight.

As Harlee entered, a wave of cool air washed away the frustration caused by Fletcher. She walked through the large, pristine lobby toward the reception desk.

“Where’s the private room reserved by Ritchie?” she asked.

The receptionist, maintaining a professional smile, replied respectfully, “Miss Sanderson, correct? Please follow me.”

Harlee nodded and followed.

They passed through the brightly lit, spacious lobby and came to a small door. The receptionist pressed a button and pushed it open, revealing a nightmarish scene crowded with bizarre figures.

“Miss Sanderson, I’ll leave you here.

A staff member from inside will escort you to the private room,” the receptionist said as someone approached.

The new person, named Jonah Haywood, who had only one eye visible, immediately recognized Harlee. She possessed one of the world’s five exclusive black cards.

His attitude quickly became respectful.

“Miss Sanderson, Mr. .

.

.