So I hadn't minded.
But the Imperial Monarch was the most exclusive hotel in Capital City, operating on an elite membership system. Only those who met a certain threshold of wealth and status were even allowed through the doors. A single banquet here cost millions.
And he'd booked it for Shirley's anniversary party. He'd even invited the press.
When Neil spotted me, he walked over with a frown.
"The owner of the calligraphy studio said you quit. Said you're leaving town. Where do you think you're going?"
My voice was flat. "Home. To take care of my grandfather. Is that a problem?"
A smug, superior smile spread across his face.
"So you've finally figured it out. Without my protection, you can't survive in this city. Your only option is crawling back to the countryside to slop pigs."
"Tell you what. If you wash all of Shirley's underwear by hand in front of everyone here, I'll forgive you. Tomorrow, we go register the marriage like nothing happened."
He had his assistant bring out a small basket. There had to be at least a dozen pairs inside.
My entire life, my family had guarded these hands like they were made of glass. They'd never let me do so much as a household chore.