Married First, Loved Later : A Flash Marriage with My Ex’s "Uncle" - Chapter 251

Chapter 251: Bullying with Backing

Noticing the shift in atmosphere, Freya swallowed nervously. “What’s wrong? Did I say something I shouldn’t have?”

Selina frowned. “Why did you say I’ve been with him since four years ago?”

She was seventeen back then—she hadn’t even been in a relationship!

Freya looked genuinely shocked. “Wait… did you lose your memory? You video called me once, and he was right next to you. Or… did I mix it up?”

Selina racked her brain but came up blank. Freya, too, began second-guessing herself. “Maybe I really got it wrong…”

Logan narrowed his eyes slightly.

Thinking she’d just made a mistake, Freya quickly changed the subject. “Let’s head in, Selina.”

Selina nodded.

Logan’s fingers twitched slightly. He remained composed, voice calm. “I’ll pick you up later.”

Freya couldn’t help grinning and winking at Selina. Once they entered the restaurant, she gushed, “Logan seems really sweet to you! I was expecting someone totally different based on the rumors.”

Selina raised a brow. “What rumors?”

“That he’s cold like death itself, totally aloof and heartless… but today? Definitely not the vibe I got.” Freya beamed. “And that drone and fireworks display on your birthday—iconic! I heard Angelica was livid. Couldn’t be happier for you.”

As they reached the hostess stand, Selina confirmed their reservation. Payment had been made in advance, and the receptionist had the info.

But when the manager arrived to lead them, they were taken toward a different room.

Freya paused, puzzled. “Hold on. We reserved Room One. This is Room Three. Are you sure this is right?”

The manager turned, face all faux-politeness layered over clear disdain. “Apologies. A few VIPs arrived—hope you don’t mind. Room Three’s just as nice. I’m sure you two lovely ladies won’t make a fuss.”

Selina’s smile dropped instantly. “VIPs?”

Freya bristled. “We booked it and paid ahead. You can’t just change it without notice. What kind of business are you running?”

The manager smirked. “Then don’t do business with us. Walk out, for all I care.”

He wasn’t about to bump real VIPs—City H’s Morris Group executives—just to cater to some second-rate socialites. Especially not Selina, whose days in the spotlight were clearly numbered. Angelica was the one with staying power.

With that thought, the manager grew bolder. “Miss Clark, know your place. Not everyone gets to sit in Room One. You really think you belong there?”

Freya looked about ready to explode. “Oh, you better believe I’m reporting this to your boss.”

Before she could continue, a man stepped out of Room One, frowning at the noise. “What’s all the yelling about? Keep it down.”

The manager perked up. “Mr. Morris! Sorry for the disturbance. These two were trying to steal your room. I was just about to kick them out.”

After all, Mr. Morris and his father were here to reunite with Miss Morris, and everything had to go perfectly.

Mr. Morris glanced over at Selina with thinly veiled irritation, eyes skimming her like she was nothing. Then, with a careless flick of his hand, he said, “Handle it. My sister will be here any minute.”

“Yes, of course.” The manager straightened like he’d received royal decree, his smugness doubling.

“Miss Clark, you heard him. Leave quietly while you still have your dignity. The people inside? Way out of your league.”

Selina nearly burst out laughing.

She slowly lifted her gaze and looked at the man with a meaningful smile. “Oh? Now I’m curious—what kind of background does this Mr. Morris have that makes him someone I can’t afford to offend?”

Mr. Morris frowned, clearly disgusted by what he assumed was Selina “desperately clinging on.” “Women like you, I’ve seen plenty. Don’t think pulling this kind of stunt will get my attention.”

Then he glanced at the manager like a king addressing a servant. “Take care of it. I don’t want her bothering me again.”

Freya let out a dry laugh. “Wait—this is the so-called Mr. Morris of City H’s Morris Family? You’re a little too full of yourself, aren’t you? With that attitude, you really think every woman wants to sleep with you? Please. Give yourself a break.”

Like hell Selina would be interested in someone like this. One look at her expression and anyone could see nothing but pure contempt. What made him think she was trying to “get his attention”? The ego on this guy was something else.

Mr. Morris’s face darkened. “Throw them out. I don’t want to see them again.”

The manager was quick to jump in. “Of course, of course! I’ll get them out immediately.” Then, barking orders to the staff, “What are you waiting for? Toss these two troublemakers out!”

A pair of bodyguards grabbed their arms. Freya couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. “Unbelievable! We booked that room and paid for it. Who the hell do you Morris people think you are—stealing someone else’s reservation and then acting like we’re the problem? No wonder your family’s been going downhill these past few years!”

Mr. Morris whipped around. “Nonsense! The Morris Family doesn’t need to steal anything. Shut her up!”

Freya scoffed. “You—”

But before she could finish, Selina calmly raised her phone. A soft beep echoed through the corridor.

Then came the playback of a recorded call:

“[Miss Clark, you’d like to book Room One for the evening of the 31st, correct? Please send over the deposit.]”

“[Yes, I’ve transferred the money.]”

“[Got it, Miss Clark. Your booking is confirmed.]”

The recording ended, followed by a screenshot of the payment confirmation on her screen.

The hallway fell into absolute silence.

Selina said lightly, “Since the Morris Family doesn’t need to steal a reservation, then perhaps Mr. Morris could kindly show me your booking details for Room One?”

“This restaurant is famously reservation-only, after all.”

She tilted her head slightly, smiling. “And someone with such high moral standards as Mr. Morris… surely wouldn’t break the rules, right?”

Freya quickly picked up the beat. “Exactly! The honorable young master of City H’s Morris Family can’t possibly not have a reservation. Now I see—this manager must’ve felt bold with you backing him. Nothing more than a lapdog.”

“Shut your mouth!” Mr. Morris’s face flushed. “It’s just a room! Is this worth making a scene over? You two nobodies really want to fight me over a table?”

“Oh please,” Freya fired back, “what century are you living in? Did you really just say women aren’t fit to be here? What, are you saying Mrs. Morris isn’t fit to sit at your table either?”

At that exact moment, a calm and refined male voice came from inside the private room:

“Ladies, I understand your frustration. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use my wife as the punchline to your argument.”