Hearing Frederick Goldsmith's words, Anne Davidson's face showed a hint of embarrassment.
She hadn't expected the other side to be so forceful, refusing to let her in.
"This matter is very private and can't be relayed."
As she spoke, Anne Davidson tried to enter, but Frederick stood firmly in place, unmoving.
"Then you can send a text to the Mrs."
Anne Davidson: ......
"Frederick, are you absolutely determined not to let me in? Is this how you treat guests?"
Anne Davidson's voice suddenly amplified, as if she were deeply wronged.
Frederick, seeing her like this, didn't respond at all.
"I'm very sorry,"
He was indeed resolved not to let her enter.
"Well, you all, you're on Nia Mitchell's side, and to think I was so good to you before, you're just ungrateful!"
Anne Davidson shouted angrily, her voice magnified many times, akin to a street shrew's scolding.
Upstairs, Nia Mitchell stood on the balcony, watching the scene below, pouting.
Why did Anne Davidson come here?
