"Fuck, what the hell's wrong with you? Would you have the money to pay me for the repairs if you'd scratched my car, you dumb delivery driver?" A man spat in Marcus Coleman's direction while cursing. Then, he sped off in his blue Porsche.Marcus gnashed his teeth silently and got to his feet while struggling to get his motorcycle upright. He'd landed in a puddle of dirty, smelly water, and his knee had a wound from being scraped against the road. "Man, I don't know how much this is gonna cost me." He balled his fists as he looked at the spilled food on the road.At this moment, his phone rang. It was a call from Marcus' wife, the belle of Cromford City, Vivian Lorimer. "Hey, honey," he began."How many times have I told you not to call me that? If you don't show up at the grand ballroom in half an hour, don't bother showing up forever!" Vivian hung up after leaving him with just that.Marcus was a little taken aback by this abrupt call. The grand ballroom? Fuck, today was t
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