She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 333: Support Miss Lawrence Since Cheyenne insisted on not taking the money, old Mr. Foley had to find another way to please her. His gaze suddenly shifted to Abbie, who was sitting gracefully on the chair, maintaining the demeanor of a refined lady.

Sensing old Mr. Foley's scrutiny, Abbie's heart couldn't help but tense. She raised her head with a smile, "Grandpa, I heard you weren't feeling well. Are you better now?" "Callold Mr. Foley," he replied.

Abbie was momentarily stunned. "Sure." "Can I eat if I'm not feeling well? But, thanks to your concern, Miss Berry. I heard you've becthe new director?" old Mr. Foley said, and Abbie's face immediately showed a hint of pride.

Being a shareholder of the Foley Group was enough to overshadow Cheyenne. The annual year-end bonus alone equaled Cheyenne's lifetincome.

"Yes, I just took office recently. Uncle Cody isn't in good health, so he returned my father's shares to me." The Berry family held shares in the Foley Group. Despite being just ten percent, it translated to a yearly dividend incof ten billion. Abbie had the confidence to believe that she now outshone Cheyenne. If Kelvin missed out on her, he would lose ten billion directly.

Unexpectedly, old Mr. Foley's next words left her dumbfounded. “Since that's the case, return the Cayenne to Cheyenne." "What... what?" Her triumphant smile froze, and she stared at him in disbelief. Everyone at the table, including Franklin, was astonished. Franklin even shot Cheyenne a meaningful look.

Cheyenne, however, remained calm, supporting her chin with one hand, her clear eyes serene, as if what old Mr. Foley said was perfectly reasonable.

Frowning, old Mr. Foley instructed, "What? Didn't you drive that car? If it got smashed, you should be the one to compensate!" Kelvin remained silent this time, not coming to Abbie's aid. She had to turn to Emelia, who had warmly welcomed her just moments ago. However, Emelia was busy inspecting her manicured nails, showing no intention of speaking up for her.

Oh well, it's just five million, and she can afford it! "Miss Lawrence, I'm truly sorry. That car... I was just joking with you. Take this money. After all, you're not the sas before. Consider the remaining money as my sponsorship for you, Miss Lawrence." A fully-equipped Porsche Cayenne costs around two million three hundred thousand. Even after buying the car, there would be about half of the money left. Abbie thought she was being “generous" by giving the rest to Cheyenne. After all, she was poor, right? Cheyenne and her ailing grandfather supposedly lived in a very old house in Yrose, much smaller than an average house. Even the square footage couldn't compare, and it was an old structure. Remaining five million? Kelvin, even if he didn't want to speak up for Cheyenne, Abbie's self-insulting words made his lips twitch slightly. Coldly, he ordered, "If you have nothing else, you can leave." Abbie licked her lips, displaying no movement. She calmly placed the gift box she had brought onto the table and whispered to old Mr. Foley, "Old Mr. Foley, these are high-end supplements specially brought by a friend of mine. Deep-sea cod liver oil, good for your health.” Old Mr. Foley, upon hearing this, didn't even spare a glance at the gift she brought. He exhaled a breath, a hint of disdain in his nasal voice. "Heh, no need. How can I deserve Miss Berry's cod liver oil? I'd rather enjoy the congee Cheyenne arranged for me, light and good for health.” He showed no respect to Abbie, leaving her dryly laughing, unable to refute or dare to refute.

With tears welling up in her eyes, she let two drops fall, wiping them away with the back of her hand, presenting herself as a potential actress. Tears could fall whenever she pleased.

"Old Mr. Foley, is it because of Miss Lawrence that you dislike me?" she asked, her voice quivering.

Old Mr. Foley stared, blew on his graying beard, and grunted, "You, little girl, with such thick skin. I just don't like it, is that okay?" Abbie had lived in the Foley mansion for a few years, and Corey felt that Abbie was well-behaved, understanding, and excellent in everything except for her poor health.

He didn't understand why his father always treated her with such coldness.

Trying to help Abbie, Corey said, "Dad, she's a guest. She cto visit you out of goodwill. Why are you speaking like this?" "Hehe, she's here to see me, or to see Kelvin. She knows it well. Forget it, I suddenly lose my appetite. Cheyenne, helpupstairs, let's have a game." Saying this, he was about to get up from the table, still having not finished the congee.

Kelvin and Cheyenne both stood up to assist him. However, old Mr. Foley disapprovingly pushed away Kelvin's hand, expressing his aversion.

"Your hands are too rough, my old bones can't stand your grip. Let Cheyenne do it. You stay here and accompany your Ab..."

Before he could finish, Kelvin abruptly interrupted, "Grandpa, she can walk by herself. She doesn't needto accompany her. You're not feeling well; I'll take you back to your Poom back first Everyone at the dining table exchanged glances. Kelvin, who had previously sided with Abbie, seemed to have changed. With Abbie having no reason to stay, she could only leave. Abbie, enduring it, managed to force out a sweet and graceful smile, saying, "Kelvin, you go ahead and take Grandpa back. I'm familiar with this place; I can manage on my own." Old Mr. Foley's face turned dark. Usually, it was the host who allowed the guest to make themselves comfortable, not the other way around.

"Look, I told you her skin is thick, and I wasn't wrong. Cheyenne, take the five million; don't let it go to waste.

It's the hard-earned result of Kelvin's labor."

Cheyenne understood that Grandpa was trying to stand up for her, but it really wasn't necessary. From the moment she decided to divorce, Abbie beca stranger to her, and whatever Abbie did wouldn't affect her. "Grandpa, thank you. But, for the sake of your health, let's go upstairs first." She glanced gratefully at old Mr. Foley, then lifted her foot and headed upstairs without acknowledging Abbie.

Kelvin was left looking quite unpleasant. It was clear he had lost his appetite. Turning around, he walked to the table, picked up his suit jacket, and prepared to leave.

"Kelvin, I'm sorry. I... I really can't make Grandpa like me, it seems." Abbie, feeling downcast, lowered her head, and teardrops moistened her eyelashes, looking pitiful.

"Then go back. I told you before, you shouldn't have chere," he coldly replied.

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