Swapping a Broken Heart for a New Start novel Chapter 611

Most people were standing too far away to catch what was being said, so they didn’t really know what was going on. But the moment they spotted Jonathan Allen, it wasn’t hard to guess.

Jonathan Allen’s reputation in Cabinda was legendary—for all the wrong reasons.

The guy had a new girl on his arm practically every weekend.

Someone in the crowd whistled and said, “Bet he’s got his eyes on one of them. Looks like he’s about to make a move.”

“Trust fund brat,” someone else replied, rolling his eyes. “The Allen family spoils him rotten. Chasing women is just another hobby for him. I’ve never seen him get turned down.”

“Maybe he finally ran into someone who won’t play along?” another voice chimed in, sounding more entertained than concerned.

A woman nearby shook her head. “Nah, you know how it is. If Jonathan Allen wants a girl, there’s no escaping. Even if things blow up, the Allen family cleans up his mess.”

“Exactly,” said someone else. “Heard he messed things up big time a few years ago—two girls ended up, well, it was bad. Their families tried to go public, but the Allens made it all disappear.”

“Yikes. So Mr. Allen really does whatever he wants, huh? Wonder which unlucky lady he’s after this time?”

People murmured and gossiped, every one of them curious to see what would happen next.

What had been a quiet corner suddenly became the center of attention. On Camila Davis’s side, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Everyone recognized Jonathan Allen, but hardly anybody knew Sarah Brown or Camila Davis. That didn’t stop the rumor mill.

A bold onlooker nudged forward. “Hey, Mr. Allen, who are these two?”

Jonathan gave a snort. “Just a couple of gold-diggers who somehow snuck in.”

“Pfft!”

Sarah Brown shot back, “Gold-digger? You? Please, spare me. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man at the country club.”

She gave him a once-over, wrinkling her nose. “Don’t you own a mirror? Or do you just avoid yourself in the bathroom? Those bags under your eyes—yikes. And you have the nerve to hit on women? If I didn’t know you were an Allen, I’d guess you crawled straight out of some sleazy dive bar. Not only is your mouth filthy, so are you.”

With that, Sarah grabbed Camila Davis by the arm and took a deliberate step back, pinching her nose. “Ugh! You better not be carrying something contagious.”

Sarah’s tongue was as sharp as ever—she never lost a battle of words. The onlookers couldn’t help but smirk. She had a point, even if she was crazy for saying it out loud.

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