Chapter 58: Sorry, I Thought It Was a Pig Squealing
The next day, Abigail went to meet Clark Stone.
She informed Elder Piers and briefed Kelly before leaving Piers’ Mansion.
However, when she arrived at the place, Abigail was stunned.
Looking at Clark Stone’s message and then at the bar sign “Peach Blossom Cove,” she finally confirmed she had come to the right place.
Clark Stone had arranged to meet her at the bar.
Abigail frowned, pressed down the brim of her hat, glanced at the bar sign with its colorful lights flashing at six o’clock, and walked in.
Today she came to make a clean break, to put an end to Abigail Green’s bitter crush.
It was just past six, the bar was not crowded, but quite a few young people were gathered in groups, dressed provocatively and fashionably. Abigail, in her knit sweater and trench coat with a hat, seemed out of place.
“Fat bitch, looking for someone?” the bartender asked, eyeing Abigail without any courtesy.
“Can’t come in?” Abigail looked up and gazed at him blandly.
The young, handsome bartender felt uneasy under her gaze and unconsciously moved aside. “Y-yes, you can.”
“Can what? When did the standards of ‘Peach Blossom Cove’ drop so low? Let me see what this is? Pig’s head meat?” As the bartender finished speaking, a man with gray hair stood up from the corner. His young voice was filled with ignorant malice.
Clearly, he was an uneducated rich young master.
Next to him, a red-haired girl in a black vest exposing half her waist asked in astonishment, “Pig meat is forty-one pounds now; don’t insult pigs.”
The bar had few people, but those who heard it laughed boisterously, their eyes mocking as they looked at Abigail.
Abigail frowned, looking at the young alternative couple who were making trouble for no reason.
Abigail scanned the bar but didn’t see Clark Stone. She walked inside while taking out her phone, but the ignored couple blocked her way. “Fat bitch, I’m talking to you. Didn’t you hear?”
“Sorry, I thought it was the pig talking,” Abigail replied seriously, looking up.
“Are you calling me a pig?” The punk young master’s handsome face changed color as he pointed at himself.
Abigail looked innocent. “That’s what you said.”
“Don’t be mad, Master Hudson; I’ll handle this.” The girl with the small waist flicked her red wavy hair, stood stylishly in front of Abigail, and shook her boots. “Fat bitch, you dare insult Master Hudson? You must be looking for trouble!”
As she spoke, her boots kicked toward Abigail’s face.
Master Hudson stepped back gleefully, turning away. “Monica, take it easy, don’t scar her face.”
“I’m helping her with cosmetic surgery!”
“Tsk, I told you not to ruin… the face…” Master Hudson turned back and saw Monica flat on the ground, doing a split.
Abigail looked down at the girl whose face was twisted in pain, then at the silver-haired boy and the confused bar patrons. “Is it trendy to do the splits in bars now? So chic.”
A chubby, white face had a pair of bright, black almond eyes, and she blinked as she spoke.
It was somewhat cute.
Others looked at their friends. Was that true?
Just then, the arrogant girl let out a painful groan, “Ah, my leg!”
Abigail shrugged and planned to leave, but a familiar figure blocked her. “What did you do to her?”
“Sis, my leg!” Monica, pale from pain, clutched Mona Wilde’s wrist.
With a grim expression, Mona helped her sister up. “Fat bitch, what did you do just now?” Others might not have seen it, but she was behind Abigail in a booth and saw Abigail’s fat hand flick towards Monica’s leg.
Abigail frowned at Mona. So, it wasn’t for no reason she was being troubled.
It was just a coincidence that Clark Stone chose a place where Mona Wilde was. What a coincidence.