Alyssa Evans was drinking her coffee when she heard these words and almost spat it out.
"What did you say?"
Alyssa put down her cup, coughing a few times, thinking she had misheard.
"I said, I want to marry your master, Mr. Crane." Phoebe Belmont said, stroking her lower abdomen with both hands, looking quite smug.
She was not alone now. If not for herself, she should consider it for her baby.
Just an eighty-year-old man, right?
She would marry him.
Upon hearing this, Alyssa's face turned green and then pale.
She had heard ridiculous things and seen peculiar people, but never before had she encountered someone as shameless as the woman before her.
What was wrong with this Phoebe Belmont? She was ready to offer herself up just because she was saved by someone?
Was this gratitude? It looked more like revenge.
