Save Her Lose Us (Evangeline and Soren) novel Chapter 237

Mr. Wellington flashed a genial smile. “Evangeline, that won’t do. Mr. Whitmore is still your father, after all. You can’t speak to him that way—he’ll be heartbroken. Come now, apologize to him.”

As he spoke, he used the pretense of mediation to reach out with his pudgy hand, aiming to grab Evangeline’s arm.

But before he could touch her, another hand shot out, gripping his arm in an iron hold.

“Words are one thing, Mr. Wellington, but there’s no need to get physical,” came a smooth, aristocratic voice.

Before Mr. Wellington could react, his arm was twisted back with unyielding force. The pain was so sharp it drained the color from his face, and he nearly doubled over, unable to stifle a yelp.

“Ow—stop, that hurts!”

Finn released him, calmly pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his fingers before taking Evangeline’s hand in his own.

With a mocking tilt to his voice, Finn remarked, “If you can’t handle a little pain, Mr. Wellington, maybe you shouldn’t be trying to hit on women.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Mr. Wellington spat, fuming. Only now did he realize there was a man at Evangeline’s side—he’d been too focused on her to notice before.

Finn stayed silent, but Winston hurried to fill the gap. “Mr. Wellington, this is Finn. Evangeline’s… friend.”

Friend? Mr. Wellington looked Finn up and down, clearly unimpressed.

He gave a dismissive snort. “Friend? Looks more like a pretty boy to me.”

At that, Winston’s heart skipped a beat. He hastily added, “His last name is Lockridge…”

Sweat streamed down Mr. Wellington’s face as he looked to Winston for help, but Winston was at a loss. He didn’t know Finn well, but he could tell he wasn’t someone to trifle with.

On one side was Mr. Wellington; on the other, the Lockridges. If he sided with Mr. Wellington and Finn sought revenge, the Whitmores couldn’t afford that. But if he backed Finn, Mr. Wellington would hold a grudge, and their business would be finished.

There was no winning here. Winston could only hope the situation would resolve itself.

While he worried, heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. A familiar, icy voice followed: “Well, seems lively in here. I’m right on time, aren’t I?”

The words sent a chill down Winston’s spine. Mr. Wellington’s eyes widened in horror.

It was over.