No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 110

LAUREN’S POV

He thinks we’re here to take selfies and post on our social media? Really? Does he not even see my age? I wasn’t some teenager who wandered in off the street looking for a good picture with a shiny car. My patience was already starting to thin.

“Look,” I said firmly, holding his gaze, “clearly you’ve misread the whole situation. We’re not here to take selfies of something that isn’t ours. We’re here to actually get a car that car in particular. But you’re jumping into so many conclusions without even knowing if you’re correct or not.”

I took a slow step closer to the man, keeping my voice calm, hoping he would hear the reason in my tone and stop treating me like a nuisance. The polished tile beneath my heels clicked lightly, the sound echoing in the wide dealership lobby.

His expression didn’t shift. If anything, it hardened more. “And I’ve told you that you can’t afford this. Do I look like I’m joking? Or do you want me to call security before you actually realize I’m serious?” the manager said.

1 let out a small sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose, a gesture I often did when people insisted on making life more complicated than it had to be. Why did human beings love unnecessary obstacles? Why did some feel the need to throw their weight around when a simple answer would do?

Before I could speak again, Tessa’s hand landed gently on my shoulder. “It’s okay,” she whispered, leaning slightly closer to me. “Let’s just leave and go to another dealership. It’s his loss. Besides…” Her eyes flicked toward the man, “…he looks like he’s actually going to call security.”

I could hear the concern in her voice. She was right, he looked exactly like the type who would.

“You should listen to your friend and leave,” the manager’s voice followed, sharp and dismissive, like he was already certain this conversation was over.

But it wasn’t.

I straightened up, folding my arms across my chest. “That’s not happening. I’ve seen what I want here, and I’m not leaving till I get it.”

The mocking scoff that left his lips made my jaw clench. He thought I was bluffing. He thought I was wasting his

time.

Fine.

“Since you’re not going to tell me the price of the vehicle,” I said coolly, pulling my purse closer, “then I’ll just go online and find it myself.” My fingers slipped into the bag with practiced ease, and I drew out my phone.

He opened his mouth, but I was already swiping across the screen, typing with speed. His irritation filled the space like a thick fog, but I ignored it, tuning out his presence for the moment.

“That’s it. I’ve run out of patience. Security!” the manager barked, raising his voice across the showroom.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Tessa shifting, as if she wanted to protest, but she quickly bit her tongue. The little flicker of worry in her eyes told me she didn’t want the scene to escalate. Neither did I but I wasn’t

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about to be bullied out of a dealership like I didn’t belong here.

My fingers moved across the phone, and in a few taps, I was staring at the official Toyota website. A quick search brought up the exact model. Toyota Century. And then, the numbers.

My brows lifted slightly. 1.8 million dollars?

That was it? That was what this man had been insulting me over, making such a dramatic fuss? I had almost expected a figure closer to five million with the way he carried on.

Honestly, this was well within my budget.

I turned the phone, showing Tessa the screen. Her eyes widened slightly, but she nodded, reassured. Then I lifted my gaze back to the manager. A group of men in black uniforms had already started their march toward us security, no doubt. Their serious expressions confirmed it.

But I didn’t flinch.

“The vehicle is 1.8 million here,” I said evenly, my voice steady and deliberate. “But I’ll call my account officer right now to make a transfer of 2 million.”

in on

Without hesitation, I unlocked my phone again and dialed the familiar number. My account officer picked up the second ring, professional as always, and I gave clear instructions.

Turning back toward the man, I extended my hand. “Your account details?”

There was a flicker in his eyes, a moment of hesitation, but eventually he pulled a small rectangular card from his pocket and handed it to me. I glanced down, noting the details printed neatly on it.

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