Chapter 274: Phoebe Ward Snapped Back

"Watch your mouth, ma'am!" Phoebe Ward snapped back, her chest heaving with anger. "Keep spewing nonsense like that and karma will bite you!"

Her delicate brows furrowed in outrage.

How dare this woman call her a harbinger of bad news?

"You're the one who's cursed! May your whole family rot!"

Brooke Walsh's face twisted at the taboo insult. "Who do you think you are? Dressed up like some high-class whore!"

Her scornful gaze raked over Phoebe's outfit. "Which sugar daddy bought you that outfit? How many men did you service last night?"

Phoebe's eyes widened in shock.

She'd never encountered such vulgarity.

"You—you're utterly—" Words failed her.

She couldn't possibly stoop to this woman's crude level.

"Cat got your tongue? Or did some man bite it off?" Brooke sneered. "How much do cheap sluts like you charge? Fifty? Eighty?"

Phoebe's face burned crimson. "You're impossible!"

"Stop pretending to be pure," Brooke jeered, hands on hips. "Trash like you always puts on airs!"

Phoebe took a deep breath. "Talking to you is like casting pearls before swine."

She turned to leave.

"Even pigs are cleaner than you!" The venomous shout followed her.

Phoebe stumbled as her expensive heels sank into a muddy pothole.

Her heart ached at the sight of her ruined shoes. What kind of dump did Helen live in? And what kind of neighbors were these?

As for the contract...

There were still two weeks before expiration. Helen wouldn't dare refuse to renew.

The publishing industry had undergone massive changes this past decade, with print markets shrinking drastically. Helen was already past her prime, having withdrawn from public life years ago—completely out of touch with current resources.

Who else would publish her books besides Phoebe?

This trip had been a complete waste. Not only had she failed to meet Helen, but she'd been humiliated by some deranged woman.

She'd remember this.

When Helen came begging to renew the contract, Phoebe would make sure to return the favor!

"At it again, Brooke?" A passing neighbor chuckled. "Didn't Mr. Whitmore already move out?"

"Who knows what gutter this tramp crawled from!" Brooke scoffed. "Disturbing decent folks' sleep this early."

"A relative of Mr. Whitmore's? Shouldn't she be at the villa then?"

Brooke's expression stiffened. "None of my damn business!"

"That villa of theirs is magnificent—front and back gardens both." The neighbor chattered excitedly. "We visited the other day, the flowers were—"

The more Brooke heard, the more it rankled.

"I'm going back to bed." She cut the conversation short and hurried inside.

After a moment's hesitation, she dug out a business card and dialed—

"Zack? About that housing exchange you mentioned last time..."

The voice on the other end perked up immediately. "Don't worry, Mrs. Walsh, I've got you covered..."

He'd just received word—this entire district was slated for demolition soon...