The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage

Chapter 1810



Watching as Frank slowly walked toward himself, terror struck Mickus' heart.

"Stop! Don't move!" he shrieked. "I-I'm warning you... I'm the heir to Clear Winds Pavilion! If you lay a finger on me, my father will make you pay, you hear?! He's Ascendant rank, and he "

Smack!

Naturally, Mickus' threat was pointless as Frank slapped him viciously across the face again once he got near, knocking out almost every tooth.

"On your knees. Apologize," he growled, impassive.

Mickus was left clutching his cheek and staring at Frank in disbelief.

Although there was no emotion on his face, the coldness in Frank's eyes left Mickus shivering.

He realized that Frank might be some novice who did not care about his threats and would keep hitting him if he threatened him again.

After fighting with himself inwardly, Mickus turned with a conflicted look toward Silverbell, mumbling through his lips, "I-I'm sorry, Lady Silverbell—"Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

"On your knees!" Frank snapped coldly behind him.

"What..."

Mickus felt thoroughly dehumanized.

He was the heir to Clear Winds Pavilion-even if he did not rule Bralog, he was a big deal, with screaming fangirls following him wherever he went. Many rich families would fawn over him and introduce their daughters just to curry favor with Clear Winds Pavilion.

And now, he had to kneel to a woman!

Unacceptable!

He was even planning to have the noble chief of the Martial Alliance to go down on her knees and show him a good time.

The difference between fantasy and reality certainly left him devastated!

"Stop!"

That was when a rich voice suddenly bellowed from the restaurant entrance.

Mickus' look of misery quickly turned to delight when he turned toward the voice and saw the one man he wanted to see at that very moment.

It was none other than his father, Azar Salor, chief of Clear Winds Pavilion.

"Dad... Dad!!!" Mickus cried, finally finding a savior.

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He rushed toward Azar without a care, immediately hugging his thigh and bawling, "Dad! That bastard slapped me and even forced me to kneel! You have to help me!"

Azar had come when he heard that there was trouble and was left incensed when he saw his son's face covered in blood.

He was over fifty but appeared to be around his forties, thanks to his martial arts training.

Moreover, he was not just highly protective of his people, but he also had a VIP here with him.

"Incompetent brat!" Azar bellowed. "I had our elites protect you! How could you let some brat do this to you?!"

"Dad!"

Mickus appeared wounded as he

pointed at the martial elites who tay scattered around the floor. "I'm not incompetent... even those martial

elites couldn't beat Frank Lawrence!"