"If you don’t want it, get lost."
Word by word, wrapped in a cold wind, it struck down.
Five words, hitting her square in the face. Helena Wills’ legs nearly gave out, almost kneeling before her on the spot.
Fortunately, the driver arrived just in ti, his burly figure standing behind her, barely keeping her legs steady.
Breathing deeply, Helena steadied herself, glaring cautiously at Nora Scott, "Is the golden cicada in your hands?"
Nora pulled out a brocade box from her pocket, palm-sized. With a flick of her hand, the brocade box was tossed into the air. As it landed back into her palm, she opened the box, revealing the item inside.
It was indeed a cicada.
However, Helena had barely looked at it for two seconds before Nora closed the brocade box.
Helena stared directly at Nora, "I need to verify it."
"Ha."
A mocking laugh.
Nora stepped back, sat back in her chair, crossing her legs, her pale fingers playing with the brocade box.
She spoke leisurely, "Now it’s you who wants it, not wanting to give it to you."
Arrogant to the extre.
Helena gritted her teeth, "How do I know if it’s real or fake?"
Nora smirked, "Still the sa words, don’t want it, then leave."
Helena fell silent, biting her lips until they turned white.
The Taylor Clan was facing a business crisis and needed the Scott family’s help, so they were thinking of giving sothing nice at Aaron Scott’s birthday banquet.
After finding out Aaron loved collecting antiques, Helena imdiately thought of the family heirloom golden cicada at ho, which her father treated as a treasure. She figured it must be worth a fortune, so she beca interested.
She originally wanted to buy it.
But her father was as stubborn as a mule, refusing the money for a comfortable retirent and insisting on guarding that golden cicada that could only be looked at but not used.
But now, seeing this woman’s implication...
Did her father change his mind?
Unfortunately, her father rarely took out the golden cicada. She had never studied it closely before, so even if it was placed right in front of her, she wouldn’t recognize it.
After thinking for a mont, Helena simply said, "I’ll transfer the money directly to my dad’s account."
This 3 million, just consider it her contribution to her dad’s retirent.
As for this golden cicada...
It’s an ancestral heirloom after all, and she’s her father’s only daughter. When the old man passes away, the golden cicada will still be hers.
"Cash for goods."
Nora casually glanced at the driver behind her.
Helena took the hint. Although she hated being led by this woman, her father rarely agreed, so she decided to hold back considering the unique opportunity.
Soon, she opened her handbag, took out a bank card, and whispered a few words to the driver.
The driver nodded and left.
Helena watched the driver drive away, exhaled a breath of cold air, turned around, and saw that Nora now had a hand warr in her arms, the brocade box put away at so point, and she was peeling an orange.
With that military coat, the murderous cold aura from before suddenly vanished.
Helena couldn’t help but doubt: Was the weakness in her legs just a montary illusion?
With the cold wind blowing outside and no seat available, Helena stood for a mont, finally looking towards the open door of the fruit shop and planning to go in to avoid the wind.
However, just as she passed by Nora, she suddenly tripped, staggered, and fell directly to the ground, hitting the ground hard.
"What are you doing?"
Helena was sprawled on the ground, inhaling sharply from the pain. As soon as she regained her breath, she shouted angrily at Nora.
Nora didn’t move her leg back, one long and thin leg stretched out in front of Helena, showing no guilty expression in response to the accusation.
With a smirk, Nora crossed her other leg on the horizontal beam of the table in front, leaning back, causing the chair’s front legs to hang in the air, a leisure yet arrogant posture.
Her gaze slowly swept over Helena.
However, within that almost playful gaze, there was clearly a hint of threat and chill, making Helena cold from head to toe, a shiver running up her spine.
The peeled orange was tossed in Pedro Langley’s direction, Nora chuckled, flipped her hand in the air suddenly producing a small folding knife. With a flick of her wrist, the folding knife opened, revealing its bright blade.
She played with the knife and continued to laugh, "If you want to enter this shop, sure. Three kowtows, an incense offering, worship the ancestors, and cleanse your wicked heart, then you’re free to enter."
"You!"
Helena was furious, wanting to get up and argue with her, but as soon as she braced her elbow on the ground, a sharp pain shot through her knee, making it hard for her to get up for a mont.
Then, she heard two icy words drift over from the side—
"Or else—"
The words were cut off.
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