Annabelle scoffed. "Someone else's?"
She turned to Leona Grant. "Honey, what does she mean?"
Leona Grant kissed her and smiled. "It's nothing. Probably just a problem with everything above her neck."
'Blind and brain-dead!'
He then gave Mrs. Yates a cool look. "Are you out of your mind? Everything I have, including my very person, belongs to my wife. You think she's just borrowing my power?"
"Leona, you—"
Mrs. Yates was utterly mortified standing there.
'She had been calling him 'Leona' so familiarly, playing the part of an elder, hoping to make him see this bitch's true colors. And in return? He wouldn't even give her the courtesy of calling her 'ma'am' and was insulting her in front of all these people?'
But she still subconsciously blamed Annabelle, assuming she had whispered poison in his ear during their pillow talk.
'It's all this bitch's fault!'
