Chapter 3 But Mr. Locke, no matter how tough, it cannot be underestimated...

Nora Hart thought to herself that the slap to her face came too suddenly as she looked at Andrew Locke's aggrieved expression: "I might as well go eat shit."

Andrew Locke still insisted on hosting; if Jordan Hart got most of the inheritance, she'd rather die than not grab a knife to slash at the old man, and even dig him up from his grave.

Andrew Locke's chest vibrated slightly, as if he was holding back laughter.

Then he nodded solemnly, "If Miss Hart has such a hobby, I can reluctantly provide the raw materials."

That's disgustingly sickening.

"But..." The man's tone shifted, "Since when did Miss Hart become the owner of my law firm?"

"Just now," Nora Hart bravely spoke up.

"Ha————" The man let out a cold snort.

"I have a meeting, Miss Hart?" The man hesitated, clearly hinting for Nora Hart to take a hint.

"I won't bother Lawyer Locke, here's my number, give me a call if you think it through," Nora Hart said and left.

Half an hour later, Andrew Locke entered the conference room and saw everyone splitting up coffee.

The junior assistant was distributing it while promoting, "This is coffee from the Boss's Lady!"

"Mr. Locke's girlfriend is Nora Hart, the top star of the entertainment industry."

.....

"Where did Jack Holt run off to?"

"To America,"

"Give me the address, I'm gonna go over there and castrate him."

Greening her? Made her dad angry until he collapsed, and the person still ran off? She couldn't swallow this grudge.

Sheila Wendy glanced at Nora Hart: "What you need to focus on now is getting your dad's inheritance, not entangling with an idiot like Jack Holt."

"Are you not afraid that you won't win your dad's inheritance, and Jack Holt will turn back around and smack you with money?"

Nora Hart: ..... She was pissed off.

"What are you thinking about?" Sheila Wendy noticed her silence.

"Thinking about drinking," Nora Hart sighed.

Sheila Wendy glared at her, "Go ahead and drink! Then you'll get drunk again and crawl into Andrew Locke's bed."

Nora Hart: .... "Forget it, I'll go home and drink tea!"

Sheila Wendy gave her a sidelong glance: "Look at you being capable."

Back at the villa, just as Nora Hart got out of the shower, Grace Young called.

"How did the talk go?"

"Just like that," Nora Hart replied weakly.

"What? You bought the broken bowls already? Planning to take your mom to beg for rice? Do you know that Jordan Hart is just 24 hours away from guarding by your dad's side now? I'm not asking you to take shortcuts, but you should at least be realistic and get prepared, right? I heard Jordan Hart also went to find Andrew Locke today?"

"You have no idea how hard that dog is to deal with."

"Flirt openly, seduce secretly, if you don't know then learn."

Nora Hart speechless: "You should read less romance novels, at your age, can romance novels tell you how to get inheritance rights?"

Grace Young was silent for a moment: "Yeah, it's unrealistic. Come over for the night vigil! If your dad wakes up and sees you first, his heart might soften and he might make a verbal will or something."

Nora Hart thought for a moment, watching someone dying isn't as good as getting a living person.

"I'm going to work on Andrew Locke, leaving right now."

Nora Hart scrolled through her friends' circle, these idle rich second-generations were always the source of firsthand news.

Forty minutes later, Nora Hart appeared at the Capital Port high-class golf course wearing a hat.

On the course, Sean Shaw stood on the side, watching Andrew Locke swing back and forth, his stance as stable as an old dog without any mistakes.

"The whole Capital Port is spreading that you've got together with the top star?"

Andrew Locke positioned himself ready to score, "What do you mean 'got together'?"

"It means whatever should or shouldn't be done was done." Sean Shaw grew up with Andrew Locke, the two were so familiar with each other like seeing one's own streaking reflection.

Andrew Locke, that introverted man, would never speak his heart.

Sean Shaw saw he didn't respond, and clicked his tongue: "Why go after Nora Hart? You'll suffer in the future."

"That sister, depending on her own talents, is as proud as a peacock."

Andrew Locke was unmoved, swinging his club to score: "As a man, admitting a woman is capable is not something to be ashamed of."

Nora Hart was excellent, they knew it since they were kids.

Top student, beautiful, high emotional intelligence, all-around talent, she could resolve conflicts in a few words, inheriting her dad's versatility.

"That also depends on her talents being used in the right way..."

"Mr. Mark Twain said: those who talk behind others' backs will have rotten dicks."

Sean Shaw turned around and saw Nora Hart standing behind them with a baseball cap, arms crossed, nonchalantly.

"Are you sure Mr. Mark Twain said that?"

"Don't believe me? You can go down and ask him," Nora Hart retorted lightly.

She brushed past Sean Shaw, walking towards Andrew Locke: "Didn't expect Mr. Locke to also notice my strengths!"

"Sure, your advantages are as obvious as our family's singing poodle, not hard to find," Andrew Locke said indifferently.

Right after his remark landed, Sean Shaw couldn't help but laugh out loud, informing Nora Hart, "Singing Treasure is the dog Andrew Locke keeps."

Nora Hart: ...... Hold it in!!!!

She took off the hat on her head, and touched up her hair: "Boss Locke's mouth is harder than your dick, huh?"

Sean Shaw: "Fuck!"

Andrew Locke: ....

He laughed, first in surprise, thinking he had heard wrong.

Crude words coming out of the mouth of the entertainment industry's little innocent flower were indeed quite shocking.

"Miss Hart doesn't like it?"

"I like it!" Nora Hart touched up her hair with her hand.

"But, Mr. Locke, it can be hard, but it can't be small!"

The man threw away his club, grabbed Nora Hart by the waist, and pinned her against the wall: "Say it again."

Nora Hart tilted her head playfully, batting her eyelashes with feigned innocence: "Say what?"

"Nora Hart..." Andrew Locke ground his teeth.

"Hmm?"

Nora Hart's limp hand fell on Andrew Locke's waist, gently touching, slipping under the hem of his clothing ready to probe, but was seized by Andrew Locke.

The man's suppressed gaze fell on her oval face.

Breath unsteady.

Even barefaced, Nora Hart couldn't hide her beauty; the more unadorned her eyebrows and eyes, the more her seductive charm showed.

In each lowering and raising of her eyes lay enticement...

Nora Hart withdrew one hand, touching his Adam's apple, with a faint smile: "Mr. Locke, I like men with hard dicks, not hard mouths."

"How about you change?"

Sean Shaw was shocked, was this still the same proud peacock he knew?

Is this still Nora Hart?

What did Andrew Locke do to her to make her stick so fiercely?

Has the Spider Essence of Silk Cave emerged?

"Should I leave?"

Hearing Sean Shaw's mood-breaking words, Nora Hart clicked her tongue displeased: "Mr. Shaw, with your intelligence, if the Shaw Family had the means, I suggest you have another child."

"Damn, you....."

"Roll."

Before Sean Shaw could let out his curse, Andrew Locke threw out a word for him to roll.

Sean Shaw: ... These two dark hearts coming together.

The man's hand pinched her waist, so hard it was almost crushing her: "You think like this, I will help you with your case?"

"I'm trying my best, aren't I? If Lawyer Locke doesn't like this way, shall I try another?"

"Which one? I want to see a strip dance, will Miss Hart dance too?"