Skye Lawrence had never been so humiliated before. She clenched her fists in humiliation, her beautiful eyes filled with toughness, as she said with her red lips moving, "Even if it's a failing company, it's still my blood and sweat. Madam, if you don't like me, you can have your son not marry me!"
Mrs. Oscar sneered, unmoved, and looked at her, snorting, "Do you think I want you to enter my family's door? Let me tell you again, you're no longer the First Young Lady of the Lawrence Family. Do you think with your current status, you deserve my son?"
She flicked her gorgeous nails, glancing coldly at Skye Lawrence, her disdainful posture like she was looking at a defective product, "You don't deserve it!"
Skye Lawrence's face turned pale, then flushed, as if she had been slapped hard twice and pinned to the spot. She retorted, "So I don't want to deserve it either!"
