My Lawyer Mom

A few days ago, while browsing online, I accidentally stumbled across a post. The title hit me like a punch to the eye: My best friend's future mother-in-law earns money through sleeping with men and still dares to demand a million in betrothal gifts. Should I warn him? I clicked into the comments section, and it was buzzing like a boiling pot. Some said, "Maybe her daughter is just like her, and the betrothal gift is just a payment for sleeping with men." The original poster quickly replied to that mocking comment, sounding hurt: "I'm not after the money; I just don't want my best friend to get scammed." When I saw the words "sleeping with men," my feel so hurt. But then I told myself, there are countless rumors online; I can't possibly take every one to heart. I just swiped it away and didn't think twice. Until today's engagement banquet, when Leo Jones suddenly stood up, holding his phone high, his voice overpowering the music in the hall. "The betrothal gift I promised before—one million—is now reduced to one hundred and twenty," he declared. He hesitated for a moment, then his eyes swept over me, dripping with contempt: "As for your mother's so-called 'business,' I even feel ashamed to mention it." I was still holding a wine glass, its rim touching my lips—the cold sensation snapped me back to reality instantly. I laughed, tears nearly streaming down my face: "My best friend saw you on a live stream a few days ago, Leo Jones. Do you often go to places like that?" "And that one million dowry and the car you promised me—give them back first." My mobile phone buzzed in my pocket; it was a message from Mom. [I was meeting an important client, will be late. I will have a surprise for you and Leo Jones.] [There's a bit of traffic on the road. Don't worry, be good.] I replied, "Got it," but when I looked up, I realized the luxury car that was supposed to bring a million in cash still hadn't shown up. I walked over to Leo Jones and whispered, "Where's the car with the betrothal gift? Didn't we agree it would be here today?" His expression suddenly changed, like a cat caught on its tail, and his voice shot up, "How dare you still say that?" "Yolanda Clark already told me—don't you know how your mom makes a living?" "The only reason I came to this engagement banquet was for the sake of our relatives and friends—don't embarrass me like this." I'm stunned. Yolanda Clark? The 'good friend' Leo Jones was talking about? Before I could even react, Yolanda stepped out from behind Leo and deliberately leaned closer to me, her voice just loud enough for the nearby tables of guests to hear. "Sorry, Shirley Lincoln, I didn't mean to say that in front of him." "But your mom is really shameless. Not only did she do that for a living, but also, she tries to sell you for a million? I just can't stand it." The whole room instantly fell silent, then erupted into hushed whispers. "Is that for real? Her mom actually does that kind of work?" "No wonder you haven't been around for so long—maybe you're busy working with your mom for men." "Leo Jones really has it rough. If they end up getting married, won't he marry a girl who used to be slept by so many men?" "Don’t you think Shirley Lincoln is just like her mother? Look at all those designer brands she's wearing—who knows how she got the money." Those words stabbed my ears like needles. I fixed my gaze on Yolanda Clark's smug face and suddenly remembered a post I came across a few days ago. It turned out, the original poster who spread the rumors was her. The first time I met Yolanda Clark was at Leo Jones' birthday party. She immediately grabbed me in such a tight hug I could barely breathe, shouting, "Your dress is gorgeous! Where did you get it?" Before I could answer, she leaned close to my ear, lowering her voice: "But judging by the brand, it must have been sent by some rich man, right? I couldn’t believe you fell for someone like Leo Jones, such a poor student."