Ch. 901..910

The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage Chapter 901-Giving Frank a wistful gaze, Vicky asked, "When are you leaving, darling?"

"Not at the moment," Frank said after some thought. "I still need to treat your grandfather, and I estimate it'll take three days before I remove all the rot earwig eggs inside him. After that, I'll be handling your problem."

"My problem?" Vicky was left a little stunned.

"Yeah." Frank nodded and smiled. "You said your family is on edge because of the South Sea Crow, right? I'm here now, and I'm not about to watch you suffer —I'll deal with her, and then we'll go back to Riverton together, okay?"

His offered hand and earnest offer left Vicky spacing out for a moment.

She put her palm on his warm hand, though she soon came to her senses and lowered her head so she could wipe away a tear without him seeing.

Forcing a smile, she shook her head and said, "Darling, I know you're amazing and accomplished so much I wouldn't ever dream of… But the South Sea Crow is different. I don't want you to get in danger because of me, okay? And it won't be just you. Helen, Winter, Winter's mother. So many lives are at stake, and they are all waiting for you to go home. I can't be that selfish."

Despite her concern, Frank grasped her palm firmly and chuckled. "I'm not your darling if I can't do that much. I'll never give you up, Vicky, or allow you to marry someone you don't love. Don't worry—I'll help you deal with the South Sea Crow, and then we can return to Riverton together."

Pulling Vicky into his arms without permitting refusal, he laughed. "The farm resort is opening in a couple of weeks. You've been working hard for it, and you're attending the opening ceremony with me."

Vicky spaced out in his embrace and eventually leaned on his chest with a contented smile.

"Yeah." She nodded ever so slightly.

• Over the next three days, Frank stayed in the guest room that Glen arranged for him.

One had to admit that the Turnbulls were extravagant—every room was equipped with the best necessities, and there were specialized servants serving different purposes.

Even an unwelcome guest like Frank had maids helping him get dressed, wash up, and brew tea.

It was a luxury he never had—being born to a military family, he led a life of strict training and discipline.

The luxurious lifestyle of rich kids?

When he woke up in the morning, he might suddenly find that his father left him in some uninhabited forest, filled with vicious beasts.

Naturally, it was to train him so that he would escape alive.

Either way, it was a leisurely three days for Frank.

At noon, he would be helping George with detoxing and extracting the rot earwig eggs.

It was a task that could have been done instantly, but Frank deliberately dragged it up to three days.

And by the third day, life had returned to old George's cheeks, and he regained enough to walk without his servants' help.

He was earnestly grateful as well—people his age just could not keep up with plots and schemes.

The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage Chapter 902-Naturally, the other Turnbulls were less than friendly toward Frank.

Other than Vicky, they all had looks of a constipated person whenever they glanced Frank's way.

He was a real piece of work, but they could neither snap at him nor chase him away.

Hurt him? They were still counting on him to cure George!

All they could do was to defame him in private, even blaming him for George's condition when he contracted it six months ago.

Frank did not care at all—it was the last day of treatment for George and the day of the Turnbulls' annual dinner.

Starting from the morning, luxurious cars were driving into the Turnbull estate, with men and women striding in as they attended the prestigious banquet.

They were all family or regional executives, all of them embodying the might of the Turnbulls as one of the Four Families of Morhen.

Naturally, Frank could see that not the entire family was gathered just yet. - At the center of the dazzling banquet hall, countless servants were hurrying around busily, lining the tables with exquisite dishes and countless glasses of expensive wine.

Frank stood at a corner, watching as hundreds of Turnbull family members and executives mingled.

They were all the backbone to the family empire—and it was always this grand and lively every year.

"What are you still doing here?" Yonca Wells asked, striding over to Frank when she happened to finish a conversation and spot him in the corner.

Though she clearly appeared disgruntled, Frank chuckled in her face, unmoved.

"What, do you want to chase me away right now?"

"Hmph."

Yonca snorted, pursing her lips. "This is our family's annual dinner, and outsiders aren't allowed here.

You're already done curing Mr. Turnbull too, so can't you go back to your pig sty in the outer reaches?"

Frank remained calm despite her insults and pointed at Titus who was chatting with Glen in the distance. "So, Titus Lionheart is a Turnbull too?"

Yonca turned and saw Titus in his tailored suit and refined mannerisms, and she quickly turned back to shoot Frank a look of disdain. "He'll be family eventually.

Who do you think you are compared to him? Don't you understand your place at all?"

"Nope," Frank shook his head and replied quietly. "All I know is that I've beaten him."

Despite his pleasant conversation with Glen, Titus seemed to sense Frank's stare just then.

He turned, his gaze turning sinister even as Frank continued, "Twice. And naturally, it's going to happen a third time."

Yonca rolled her eyes at Frank's conceited gloating and left.

After all, if Glen could not stop Frank from attending this dinner, whatever she said was pointless.

Even snide remarks got her a slap in the face.

Titus soon arrived with a glass of wine in hand, rearing his chin to shoot Frank a lofty glare. "I'm surprised you'd stay, Mr. Lawrence. I must admit that you have balls."

"It's just that yours are smaller," Frank chuckled with a scowl.

He absent-mindedly picked up a glass of wine from the table and clinked it with Titus'

The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage Chapter 903-Frank took a sip of wine after clinking glasses with Titus but soon noticed something as the liquid slid down his throat.

"What…" He frowned, glancing at the dark-red wine.

"Problem?" Titus asked. "That's a special grade Romanee-Conti, imported from Franconia. They produce less than 400 barrels each year, but 200 of those have been brought here expressly for this banquet."

After his commentary, Titus made a look of dramatic realization. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Lawrence—I've forgotten that hillbillies like you never get to experience such fine wine, let alone relish the exquisiteness in its taste."

Nearby, Yonca hid her laughter behind her palm, while other Turnbull family members frowned at Frank too.

Who was he? Why had they not seen him around before?

His very presence was a polar opposite from the glitz and glamor of the banquet hall, so they couldn't help being curious.

Still, Frank wasn't frustrated, even smiling and nodding. "Hehe… There really is something special about this wine that I can't appreciate. I guess only someone as highbrow as you can appreciate it, Mr. Lionheart."

His reaction actually surprised Titus.

"Fufu… Who is this young gentleman? Is no one going to introduce me?"

Before they could continue, a woman in her twenties approached them.

She was wearing a flamboyant gown and a particularly strong perfume.

"Hmm.?"

Frank's eyes narrowed as soon as he saw her.

Yonca hurried to her, saying, "Please, Marit. He's just a healer who's lodging in our residence because of Mr. Turnbull's illness. He's nobody important."

"Oh." Marit Tisdon murmured and suddenly learned her face towards Frank even as her face lit up with realization.

She was beautiful, her eyes bright and her cheeks born perfect.

Her every move and gesture was bewitching as well—no man could tear his eyes from her.

Even as she moved closer to Frank, her smile almost left Frank stunned.

"It seems you don't like the wine I've brought," she breathed sweetly, her lips parting just enough as she licked them alluringly.

"No way," Frank smiled, recovering his senses soon enough and twirling his glasses. "I'm just ignorant and therefore misspoke. Since you've brought this wine, I won't be such a buzzkill to shower further contempt—and you know what they say about beautiful women and fine wine."

Taking another sip, he nodded and praised, "It's really good."

"Fufu…" Marit giggled and winked charmingly at Frank. "You're so interesting…

More so than everyone else in this hall. Would you mind coming upstairs to my private room for a chat?"

"I'm interested, but I'll have to refuse." Frank grinned, staring pointedly at the man behind her.

It was Zac Turnbull, George Turnbull's third son.

And he looked really angry.

"Don't bother with him, Marit," he growled as he strode over, shooting Frank a cool glare but otherwise saying nothing as he pulled her away.

"Call me!" Marit purred, having sneakily slid a note with her number on it into Frank's coat pocket before she left.

Frank snorted in turn. "Well, things are getting interesting."

He returned to his seat, crossing his fingers behind his head while he placed his feet on the table, smiling faintly

The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage Chapter 904-"Haha! Walter's back too? Terrific!"

Frank turned and spotted a pair of familiar faces entering the banquet hall just then.

Naturally, it was Vicky's parents, Walter Turnbull and Susan Redford.

It seemed that they had to attend this banquet even though they lived in Riverton.

Glen Turnbull was on hand to receive them, though his eyes soon widened in surprise and he looked around, searching.

"Where's Les and Neil? Aren't they not coming back?" he asked.

"They're."

Walter was left making an awkward face, unsure what to say.

Susan nudged him on the back, clearly wanting him to speak up.

"Ahem."

Walter cleared his throat, and took out two reports, handing them to Glen as he explained exasperatedly, "Les was conspiring with our enemies and stole the recipe for the Beauty Pill which Vicky spent a fortune to acquire… He was killed during a fight thereafter."

"What?!"

The bombshell left Glen freezing, his lips trembling.

Les was his second son. and he got killed in Riverton?!

He was not even told when he died!

"What's wrong, Glen?" Zac strode up, taking the reports from his brother's shaking hands.

His eyes soon widened too, "Neil. and Les?! What's going on here, Walter?!"

Zac seized Walter by the wrist, his veins throbbing as he shook Walter violently in disbelief.

"How could both our boys so simply get killed in Riverton?! Why?!" he bellowed.

"Well, Neil."

Walter sighed, agonizing. "Neil was trying to take over Vicky's company and our estate. He was conspiring with our enemies too, but he ended up challenging someone he should not and was killed for it."

Naturally, no one's mood improved from Walter's explanation.

If anything, things got even more somber.

"Challenging someone he shouldn't?!" Zac's eyes widened in fury. "Who was it?!

We're the Turnbulls! Is there anyone in the country we can't challenge?! Who on earth killed my son, Walter?!"

Walter sighed—Zac was clearly ready to snap.

Leaning in, he told Zac under his breath, "Hans Schnee, East Coast base commander."

"What… Hans Shcnee?!"

Zac stumbled backward so far that he only came into his senses when he hit a banquet table. "Why him? How did my son end up messing with him? T-This isn't right."

Hans Schnee was certainly one they must not challenge, even if Zac was much richer than the man.

Not only was Hans a leading figure in Draconia military, but he also had the support of the man all of Draconia learned to fear—the Lord of the Southern Woods.

He was a man so dangerous that not even the Lionhearts would confront him lightly.

As such, even if it was just Hans, they had to take it lying down.

"I want to know everything, Walter," Glen growled

The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage Chapter 905-Glen straightened himself, suddenly cold and authoritative again as he stared fixedly at Walter. "A child of our family must not die under such mysterious circumstances."

"Exactly," Zac growled, repressing his rage. "I can't let my son's death go unanswered. And I want to know why!"

"Naturally, I've come prepared," Walter said, pulling out a stack of documents compiling evidence of Les Turnbull and Neil Turnbull's crimes, including photo evidence.

"Hey. Look," Susan noticed Frank sitting in a corner without a care just then and nudged Walter to look.

Walter and Frank's eyes just so happened to meet just as Walter turned.

With that, Frank got up and walked slowly through the crowd to reach them.

"Mr. Turnbull, Mrs. Turnbull. We meet again." He smiled in greeting.

However, both of them appeared awkward since Frank's name was in the documents they had just handed to Glen and Zac.

There was no hiding it now.

Walter cleared his throat and asked with an edge an elder would use, "What are you doing here? This is a family dinner—outsiders aren't usually invited."

"Hehe." Frank retained his cordial smile. "Don't stand on ceremony now. You know why I'm here, don't you?"

"Huh… You two know each other?" Glen stopped flipping through the papers and looked up at Walter in surprise just then.

Come to think of it, it would make sense that Walter knew Frank, given how close Vicky was with Frank. Still, it upset Glen a little—did his brother not know that Vicky was going to marry Titus? How could he allow his daughter to hook up with Frank?

"Guilty as charged." Walter chuckled awkwardly but otherwise stayed silent.

He could certainly see the accusing glare of his brother and knew his intent.

However, given Vicky's temperament, could he really have reined her in even after finding out about her relationship with Frank?

He had reasoned with her endlessly, but what else could he do if she refused to listen?

"Hello, Mr. Turnbull. I'm sure it's been a bumpy ride from Riverton." Titus greeted Walter as he approached, wine glass in hand.

"Oh, it's really nothing…" Walter was almost as respectful as he was polite with Titus, a stark contrast to his awkward reaction around Frank.

Titus then glanced at Frank and chuckled coolly. "See? No one wants you here.

I'd make myself scarce if I were you—you'd at least salvage some dignity that way."

Frank simply shook his head. "Not everyone prioritizes dignity like you would.

I'm here for my own reasons too, and it's none of your business."

"Wait!"

However, even as he started for his seat, Glen suddenly bellowed at him from behind, his rage barely controlled.

"Yes, Mr. Turnbull?" Frank glanced at him nonchalantly.

"The papers here. It says Les was killed by a Frank Lawrence!"

Glen roared, and the musicians stopped just then. "Were you the one who killed my son?! You'd better start talking!"

The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage Chapter 906-The banquet hall erupted in an uproar at Glen's outburst.

"What?! Someone killed Les Turnbull?"

"No way, he's dead? And that brat killed him?!"

"That's the son of the family head we're talking about… Who the hell let him in here?"

Frank could feel everyone's eyes on him.

He glanced coldly at Walter in turn and said calmly, "Yes, I killed him."

"How dare you!" Glen bellowed, clearly unable to retrain his own wrath.

That man had killed his beloved son and would strut on his own turf freely like it was nothing?!

How would he hold his head high if word got out?

Nonetheless, Frank was laughing out loud and shaking his head. "Then did you read the part on why I killed him? You're a real failure of a father."

Everyone swore they could hear Glen's teeth gnashing.

Frank ignored him, however, and turned toward Walter, sighing in disappointment. "Shouldn't you be standing up to explain the facts? I remember how you bravely volunteered that you'd speak with your own brother personally.

Why are you cowering now?"

"I." Walter was left clenching his cheeks, pain swelling in his gut.

It would have been fine if it was just Les—he was just Glen's bastard and had a troubled reputation in the family. His death was at best inconsequential, and Walter could at least defend Frank's actions.

But the problem was that there were two deaths, and the other was Neil Turnbull, Zac's legitimate son.

How was Walter supposed to explain that? If anything, he had come ready to apologize and accept his punishment!

"Hah! Those two lowlifes? So what if they are dead? No one will miss them!"

Just then, Vicky strode into the banquet hall in her white gown, her long black hair flowing beneath her tiara and her devilish figure instantly seizing everyone's attention.

"Vicky's all grown up now!"

"Yeah. She's even more beautiful than before."

Amidst the gasps of awe, Vicky strode up to Glen and Zac, speaking bluntly, "Les and Neil both deserve what was coming to them. They were ready to kill me and take over the business my father and I built in Riverton. Or was I supposed to just roll over and die without fighting back?"

Her cool words left both Glen and Zac silenced for a moment, though Zac tried to argue, "I raised Neil —he's not like that. Could there be just a misunderstanding—" "Not like that?" Vicky laughed despite herself. "Neil was conspiring with the Salazars of Sunny City and the Graves of Riverton. They were going to kill Frank first before working together to seize my company."

Turning to Titus, she asked, "You were there, Titus. Tell them—was I speaking the truth?"

"Hmm?"

Titus frowned as everyone turned toward him, but he chuckled, shaking his head after some thought. "Have you forgotten, Vicky? Mr. Lawrence crashed the wedding at Graves Mansion and was on a warpath, and Neil was just an innocent life lost in the bloodshed. Are you really blaming Hans Schnee for that?

I know you have feelings for Mr. Lawrence, but you shouldn't side with him—Neil is your family, y'know."

"What?!"

The crowd of Turnbulls glared at Frank furiously after Titus crafted another version of what had happened on the spot.

The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage Chapter 907-Unlike Les, Neil was highly regarded in the family.

It was unacceptable to see Frank, the murderer, to stand among them without a care!

That was when the flamboyantly dressed Marit flashed a fearless smile. "Could he be the South Sea Crow?"

"What?!"

"The South Sea Crow?!"

The name left every Turnbull on edge, and it was only natural since it was a nightmare that had hounded them constantly for three years.

And everything would certainly make sense if Frank was that villain… and she was allegedly peak Ascendant rank too!

"So that's it."

Zac growled viciously at Frank, his eyes flashing. "That's why Father was suddenly stricken with some bug. And you're in Morhen by sheer coincidence, on hand to prove that you're the only one who can treat him. The way I see it, you probably bewitched Vicky with some foul enchantment so that she is obsessed with you. But you're not getting away now that you've been exposed!

Retainers!"

The glass dome overhead shattered at Zac's bellowed, and amid some screams, ten Ascendant ranks landed around Frank, encircling him.

"Hehe." Marit giggled and winked at Frank just then.

Frank simply narrowed his eyes at her from a distance without arguing.

"Yes, you being the South Sea Crow explains everything," Glen said as he strode forward, rearing his chin and posturing himself as the Turnbulls' leader.

"Speak! What do you want?"

Frank remained silent for a while but soon snickered. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you—I'm not the South Sea Crow, though I have an idea who she is now. Also. You lot are way dumber than I thought."

"Frank." Vicky was watching him worriedly.

"Step back, Ms. Turnbull. This man is dangerous." A Turnbull family retainer strode up and half dragged her away.

Titus also caught her by the wrist while watching smugly as Frank was encircled. "How about that, Mr. Lawrence? Doesn't feel good to have your mask ripped off, does it?" "Oh, I wouldn't know about that." Frank chuckled as he leveled a gloating look at the rest of them, shaking his head. "All I know is that you're all going to start hurting soon."

"What?" Glen asked and abruptly felt a pang of pain in his stomach.

"Bleurgh—!!!"

He was on his knees even before he managed another word and vomited out a mouthful of twitching, living larvae.

"W-What's this?!"

Glen stared at the pests in disbelief, and pointed a trembling finger at Frank even as he shuddered, "South Sea Crow… You…"

"What?"

Frank stood, folding his arms before his chest as more Turnbulls dropped to their knees around him, and shook his head in disappointment. "You're supposedly a dynasty of businessmen, so why are you so foolish?"

"Y-You'll pay for this. Bleurgh—"

The ten Ascendant ranks around Frank were clearly hexed too, and they dropped to their knees as they directed their pure vigor to burn the scarab eggs inside them.

"When did you." one of them growled through his teeth.

The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage Chapter 908-"When did you…" one of the Ascendant ranks growled through his teeth.

It was only yesterday that he came under the Turnbull's payroll, and he never ate from their table.

So how did he catch the bug like the others?

"Darling." Vicky was clutching her belly too, clearly taken ill as well.

"Come here, take this antidote and direct the vigor I infuse into you to clear your bowels," Frank said, passing Vicky a black pill.

Vicky took the pill without hesitation and sat in meditation as she accepted an iota of vigor from Frank, directing it throughout her own body.

She was a martial artist who had lost her cultivation due to poisoning. However, with Frank's vigor as a catalyst, her body felt like a broken dam, and her vigor kept gushing away from her meridian nexus, swiftly purging the bug.

"Vicky. Don't trust him."

Glen actually tried to stop Vicky from taking the pill, only to be left staring as Vicky was soon on her feet.

And judging from the look on her face, she was cured and perfectly fine now.

"Wha.?!"

Glen was flabbergasted—why would Frank save them?

The South Sea Crow wanted them dead!

Could it be that he was not the South Sea Crow?

At the same time, Frank whipped out two more pills and threw them to Vicky.

"Here. Feed these to your parents—they can't wield vigor, so you'll have to assist them."

"Okay!"

Vicky did not hesitate to feed her parents both pills and directed her vigor flow into them to quickly clear the bug.

As Walter recovered, he began, "Mr. Lawrence, I."

Frank held up a hand to stop him. "You don't have to thank me, Mr. Turnbull—I simply won't watch Vicky's family get killed. Right now, there's only one thing to do and it's to capture the poisoner."

"Frank."

Vicky came up to him with a droopy face, her intention clear as she pointed at the hundred over members of her family.

Frank snorted—he was not blind to the Turnbulls' pleading looks. "They were accusing me of being the South Sea Crow, weren't they? They shouldn't be giving me those looks when they blamed me as the culprit so readily."

"Darling!"

Vicky tugged on his hand, pleading. "They are my family, come what way. Pretty please…"

Leaning in, she then breathed into his ear, "They'd definitely think differently of you if you save them now."

Frank sighed when he saw her sly smile.

He was no angel—as a matter of fact, he never told the Turnbulls when he realized something was wrong with the red wine. After all, he was an outsider to the lot of them and was not worth their trust. If anything, those who knew him hated him and certainly would not believe him.

Moreover, he was keen to play messiah.

After all, the Turnbulls should be grateful that he saved their lives, should they not? That would certainly win him a few favors.

Considering how much grief he was given, he would still repay such injustice with grace because of Vicky.

If not for her, he would have just up and left—he had no reason to be a punching back.

The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage Chapter 909-Who knew? Frank might even clap and launch some fireworks and celebrate the moment the South Sea Crow massacred the Turnbulls.

After all, they had never treated him fairly ever since he came to Morhen, and he was not one who maintained grace in the face of grief. They had constantly harassed him while posturing themselves with the superiority as one of the Four Families of Morhen, even breaking promises.

As such, how was Frank supposed to play nice with the likes of them?

However, while he got tough in the face of injustice, it was really 'what you see is what you get' with him.

In other words, Frank could be a softie at times.

"Urgh, whatever…" His shoulders slumped feebly after Vicky tugged on him and pleaded for a long while.

Having suffered this much grief, what was a bit more, and for Vicky's sake at that?

Whipping out the two remaining antidote pills, he handed them to Walter and said, "These won't be enough, and I don't have time to cook more. Get a bucket of water and dissolve the pills in the water, then feed each person half a bowl of it."

Walter nodded gratefully. "Thank you so much, Mr. Lawrence."

However, it was Susan Redford who noticed that something was amiss. "Wait, where do we get a bucket?"

That was certainly true—all this luxurious banquet hall provided was fine dining and bottles of wine and champagne. Buckets and even clear water was out of the question.

Frank frowned and looked around. "Any bucket will do."

Soon, he spotted a bucket of mop water kept in a corner and strode over, picking it up along with the mop.

"This will do," Frank said, taking back the pill from Walter and throwing it into the bucket before stirring firmly with the mop.

Then, leaving the bucket at Walter's side, he turned and strode off. "Alright, now go and feed them with half a bowl each." "Where are you going, Frank?" Vicky appeared worried, seeing that he was leaving.

"To see the South Sea Crow, of course. I have questions, and."

Frank grinned. "I'll resolve this issue for you."

With that, he leapt, instantly dashing out of the front door.

Walter and his wife were left staring awkwardly at the stinking bucket of mop water.

"Walter, what…"

Susan was left at a loss—were they really supposed to feed that mop water to every bigwig in the Turnbull family?!

"Anything else can wait. We have to help them!" Walter gritted his teeth and picked up an empty bowl from the table as he strode up and forced Glen's mouth open.

The man was the head of the family, and his safety was top priority!

"Sorry about this, brother!" Walter cried as he scooped half a bowl full of mop water and shoved it down his brother's mouth.

"Mmmph!!!"

Glen flailed around, knocking a lot of the water away.

Walter turned toward his wife right then and snapped, "What are you spacing out for? Hold him down!"

"Oh. Okay!"

Susan finally went up to hold down Glen's arm after spacing out for a while, watching as Walter continued to feed the vicious stench down Glen's throat.

She had to turn, patting her chest as she retched.

But soon, Vicky joined in as well, holding down Glen's hands with her father.

The Girlboss Begs for Remarriage Chapter 910-After that, it was Zac and the rest of the Turnbulls' executives.

Walter's family of three worked hard, and soon the entire bucket of mop water was finished.

Stenched aside, it worked like a charm—even if they did not instantly recover like Vicky and the others, they were soon regaining consciousness, especially with the help of Vicky's vigor.

Most of them were getting to their feet, including Glen himself, although he blacked out again, his eyes rolling up his head in sheer agitation when he was told that Frank had saved his family with a bucket of mop water.

Even Titus was not spared the ignominy, his expression contorted with pure rage as he resisted his discomfort to drink half a bowl of mop water. - While Walter and the others were busy rescuing their extended family, Frank found the South Sea Crow standing atop the roof of the banquet hall, her hair dancing in the air.

And her alter ego was none other than the enchanting Marit Tisdon, Zac's wife.

"I'm curious. Whatever did the Turnbulls do to you?" Frank asked as he tread over the roof tiles and approached her as she stood by one of the obelisks.

"Haha. That's why I said you're the most interesting person at that dinner, Donn Lawrence."

Marit giggled coquettishly, her low neckline baring her cleavage perfectly. She certainly would not lose out to Vicky and was actually the clear victor in certain aspects.

"You know me?" Frank exclaimed in surprise.

"Tut, tut. With that hefty bounty on your head, who wouldn't?" Marit said, winking at him. "Even the many Blackranks of Morhen are eager to get a piece of you!"

"So, are you going to have a go too?" Frank raised his brow warily.

He could not read the true depth of Marit's abilities. As such, she might prove to be a handful if they really started fighting.

Marit raised her brow and stretched her back just then. "Shame. I'm not interested in you. Or let's just say I'm more interested in the Turnbulls than you.

Ah, what a blunder."

Despite sounding depressed, she was smiling charmingly. "I thought I'd wipe them all out during their bullshit annual dinner, but you had to interfere."

What's the story between you and them?" Frank asked quietly.

"Oh, is that interest I hear?" Marit licked her finger, flashing a bewitching smile as she batted her eyelids at Frank. "Are you going to help me against the Turnbulls? Oh, what should I do… I might fall for you now, handsome. And you look even better than the photos on your bounty. Heck, the more I looked, the easier on the eyes you are."

"Hehe." Frank chuckled, shaking his head. "I might really help if not for Vicky.

But what ifs would always be inconsequential."

"Vicky? That pretty face down below?" Marit's smile faded as she pouted grumpily. "What's so good about her? Why don't you just come with me, handsome?"

Then, her smile returned, smug even as she bragged, "I am an expert in ninetynine positions. You'll be begging for mercy—"

"Pfft."

Frank snickered, reminded of something amusing. "I have an idea who you might be now. South Sea Crow, your title is simply nonsensical."