Sorry My Step-Uncle, I'm Not Your Backup Plan novel Chapter 33

"To adopt Grace?" Gabriella asked.

Victoria leaned closer, lowering her voice. "More than that. She asked Asher's mother to have him marry Grace when they grew up."

Gabriella's eyes widened in shock.

"Christ," Charlotte exclaimed. "The nerve of her!"

"Lady Blackwood must have found some way to refuse," Victoria continued. "The housekeeper eventually accepted just the adoption as repayment."

Charlotte scoffed. "Obviously. As if Lady Blackwood would let her only son marry a housekeeper's daughter."

"Exactly. The heir to the Blackwood name? Impossible."

Gabriella sipped her cocktail thoughtfully.

None of them noticed the woman watching them from across the bar, her eyes cold with hatred.

After a few drinks, Gabriella stood. "Just need the ladies'."

In the narrow corridor outside the restroom, two men blocked her path.

One was heavily built, head shaved, tattoos covering his arms. He whistled crudely. "How about some company, love?"

Gabriella, who'd been checking her phone, glanced up briefly. Discreetly, she switched to her recording app before slipping the phone into her pocket.

His companion, thin with bleached hair, smirked around his cigarette. "Pretty thing like you must be fun."

"Charming," Gabriella said coldly. "Is that mouth always so delightful?"

Bleached Hair grinned nastily. "Name your price, sweetheart."

The corridor was too narrow to slip past them. Gabriella crossed her arms, maintaining her composure.

"Let's see... funeral services start at five thousand. Extra for the wake, two thousand for professional mourners, brass band's another three... Cremation's the budget option. Shall I price up a coffin? Family discount for multiple deaths."

"Mouthy bitch," Bleached Hair spat. "Think you're clever?"

Tattoos stepped closer, unbuckling his belt. "Playing hard to get? Let's see how innocent you are in the gents'."

They moved toward her.

As Tattoos reached for her, Gabriella's kick landed precisely between his legs with devastating force.

He collapsed with an agonized scream, curling into a fetal position.

Bleached Hair lunged with a snarl.

Gabriella caught his arm in a joint lock, twisting until something popped. His scream joined his friend's.

"Is that all?" she asked mildly, wiping her hands with a tissue. "Pity. My Krav Maga's getting rusty—I was hoping for a workout."

The insult stung more than the pain.