Chapter 205 

Remington’s eyes landed on the bank card being passed to him, and for a moment, they 

froze over. 

The dude didn’t take the card; he just looked up, locking eyes with Lizetta. 

“So you hit me up today just to give me this?” 

His voice was laced with suppressed rage. 

He had spent the whole trip wondering that maybe she had a change of heart, and didn’t want to make a scene anymore. 

Or perhaps she had a rough patch outside, ran into some trouble, and needed to lean on him. 

He even toyed with the thought that maybe she just missed him. 

All revved up with anticipation, he’d urged Cedric to step on it, but what he didn’t see coming was her showing up to drop a cool thirty mil on him, and with another guy, no less. 

She sure knew how to drop a bombshell now, didn’t she? 

The guy was freezing cold, but Lizetta didn’t flinch a bit. 

All she wanted was to get out of there pronto, not keen on seeing Remington and Shirley even for a second more. 

“Yeah, the agreed three million, to the last dime. Take it, will ya?” she rushed him, and seeing Remington wouldn’t take it, she tried to stuff it into his hand. 

But Remington didn’t bite; instead, he pulled his hand back as if she was offering him a death warrant instead of a hefty sum. 

Lizetta frowned, “What’s your deal?” 

Remington fired back with a chilly voice, “Lizetta, haven’t I made it clear? I don’t just grab any dirty money that comes my way.” 

His gaze pointedly swept over Hogan, who was standing behind Lizetta. 

The message was crystal: hé thought Lizetta got the cash from Hogan. 

Lizetta’s pale face flushed red with humiliation and anger. 

She had sold years of her creative work, and had toiled from dawn to dusk to earn this money fair and square just to pay back Remington and the Dashiell family. 

She was done being looked down on, done being the Dashiell family’s charity case, and certainly done with people like Shirley thinking they could walk all over her. 

10.04 

But here was Remington, trivializing her struggles and efforts, not even bothering to ask or check, just assuming her money was dirty. 

Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes as she glared at Remington, “This three million, every penny is hard–earned by mel I’ve got records of every transaction, clear as day. Seet for yourself.” 

Lizetta pulled out a ledger from her bag, and pushed it along with the card toward Remington. 

Remington’s face was a picture of disgust, but he still didn’t take it; he was frozen solid. 

Lizetta, in a fit of pique, threw it at him, “Remington, we’re square now!” 

The ledger hit him right in the chest, the bank card flying up and smacking his proud and icy face before they both landed at his feet. 

Remington’s expression was stormy; he closed his eyes, radiating malice. 

Shirley stared at Lizetta in disbelief, “Lizetta, have you lost your mind? How dare you throw stuff at Remi!” 

Lizetta was definitely the first and surely the last one to ever chuck a bank card at Remington. 

Without looking back, Lizetta said to Hogan, “Hogan, let’s bounce.” 

Hogan nodded, and they headed out. 

But as Lizetta walked past Remington, the man who hadn’t budged suddenly grabbed her 

wrist. 

Lizetta tried to shake him off, but he was clamping down hard, not letting go. 

She yanked with all her might, which was so uncaring; her wrist even throbbed with pain, and quickly reddened. 

Remington looked down, saw it, and reluctantly let go. 

Lizetta stormed off, while Hogan hung back a step; he paused next to Remington before addressing him. 

“I came to see a friend and ran into Liz by chance. Also, Mr. Dashiell, before you flex your muscles, make sure you get the full story; please ask Ms. Shirley Dashiell what exactly she’s been up to.”