When Carol heard that, she frowned. “Miss Lowe? Which Miss Lowe?”
The butler was stunned. What’s wrong with Miss? Has she gone daft with anger? Has she forgotten who her enemy is?
How many "Miss Lowe"s could there be?
“Miss, it’s Miss Miranda.”
Carol’s brows furrowed even deeper, and she let out a cold laugh. That woman must’ve come just to laugh at her misery.
“Hmph! Tell her to get lost.” She was in a good mood today and didn’t want to ruin it.
The butler turned to leave.
Carol continued reading through Patrick’s profile. Whether in looks or ability, he checked all her boxes.
But just a few minutes later, the butler returned, clearly troubled. “Miss, Miss Lowe said if you don’t see her, you’ll regret it.”
“Tch. Who does she think she is? Just a white lotus that got tossed aside
