Avery Lamour sat with her head bowed. Her cheeks were flushed. “M-Mr. Reed is fond of Ms. Morgan. I can’t help myself...”

What could Avery possibly have in common with Ivy Morgan?

Ivy was the sun, and Avery was a speck of dust.

Joy Lamour gave a cold snort.

“Can’t help yourself? Isn’t your mother a harlot? Did she not teach you anything before she died? Can’t you find other ways to steal his heart if he doesn’t like you?”

Avery was pushed back against the wall by Joy.

Her head smacked against the wall, making a dull sound. It was a shame about her.

Ivy stood there, sympathizing with...