Chapter 82
If Effie and Lyman ended up together, would the Bagnold family ever have to worry about money or business again?
Some people in the room were already scheming, eager to cozy up to them. Mitchell stood silently in a corner, but he saw everything that had just happened.
A wave of jealousy crept over him-sharp and bitter-leaving him restless and unwilling to accept what he’d witnessed.
It was as if someone had snatched away his favorite toy.
He felt horribly unsettled.
Suzan noticed the stormy look on Mitchell’s face and didn’t dare approach him.
But she knew where all of this started: Effie.
That wretched woman-always flirting, always managing to seduce men.
And now, unbelievably, she’d managed to get Lyman’s attention.
So what if she had, though? Lyman was only toying with her. There was no way he was serious.
Suzan couldn’t wait to see Effie discarded and left behind.
When the birthday banquet finally ended, everyone walked away lost in their own thoughts.
Shepard’s expression was grim. He realized he needed to take his eldest daughter more seriously.
Even though Effie had declared she was severing ties, he’d raised her-how could she simply walk away from him?
The next morning, after Effie got up, she made herself breakfast, ate quietly, and headed to the office.
A couple of days earlier, she’d bought a simple, unremarkable car-nothing flashy. That way, no one would pay her any special attention when she drove to work.
She didn’t want to show up with Lyman, either. If anyone saw them together, the rumors would fly, and she wanted nothing more than a peaceful, ordinary work life doing what she loved.
When Lyman found out about the car, he frowned in disapproval. “That model isn’t safe enough. If you don’t like any of the cars in the garage, you can pick out another one.”
But Effie refused. The garage was filled with over a dozen rare, limited-edition cars-Rolls-Royce, Bentley, Porsche, Maserati…
If she drove one of those to work, she’d instantly become the talk of the office. People would assume she was being kept by some wealthy man.
There was nothing Lyman could do but remind her to drive safely.
Effie left the house soon after.
Lyman couldn’t help but smile to himself. His wife really was different from other people.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
Thinking Effie might have run into trouble, he picked it up at once. But when he glanced at the screen, his brow furrowed.
Still, the phone kept ringing, so he answered.
A flustered voice came through. “Mr. Etheridge, hello, this is Carole-Isabel’s manager. She just got back into the country today, but was swarmed by crazed fans at the airport. She’s hurt, but doesn’t want to make a scene, so she asked me to call you…”
Lyman listened, his voice turning cool and steady. “I’ll send someone to bring her to the Etheridge Group’s private clinic.”
“Thank you so much, Mr. Etheridge,” Carole said, deeply relieved.
After hanging up, Lyman paused for a moment, then headed out to the clinic as well.
When he arrived, he spotted Carole pacing anxiously in the hallway.
As soon as she saw Lyman, Carole hurried over, her face full of worry and apology.
“Mr. Etheridge, I’m so sorry for the trouble. Isabel just finished her exam-the doctor says it’s only a mild sprain, nothing serious, but she’s a little shaken.” Carole spoke quietly, her voice tinged with helplessness.
Lyman nodded, his expression unreadable. “Which room is she in?”
“She’s in the VIP suite—I’ll take you there.” Carole quickly led the way.
They reached the door, and Carole gave a soft knock before opening it, gesturing for Lyman to go inside.
Neither of them noticed the figure down the hall, quietly snapping photos of the VIP room’s entrance…