Mr. Kane Got Blacklisted by Eleven Jewell

Chapter 899
Felicity glanced at Vermont and asked, "Have you ever seen the ad for pain- free surgical abortions?" "What?"
"There was this girl who was undergoing pain-free surgery, and she asked the doctor if they were going to start, but the doctor
told her that they were done."
"What are you talking about?" Vermont frowned.
"That was how I felt that night," said Felicity, and Vermont froze.
'Are we going to start? We're already done. Not only was it fast, but it felt as though there was nothing.' Vermont could not
believe it and was a little embarrassed. 'This is my manhood we're talking about. Shit. There's no way that's true, especially not
after I laughed at Keegan for the same thing.1
"You were so wasted that day. You probably don't remember how it felt."
Felicity gave Vermont a sideways glance and said, "Even though I have no experience prior to this, I'm sure I should’ve felt
something, right? I mean, the pain I felt after getting a shot lasted for two days. But, I didn't feel a thing after we had sex. Could it
be that there's something wrong with your— " She paused and deliberately glanced at his lower body to imply something.
Vermont's face turned green. He was quiet for a long time, which made Felicity happy. She then pretended to look surprised and
said, "You didn't know about this? You had so many girlfriends, yet no one told you they didn't feel a thing? Poor you."
Before Vermont could respond, she continued, "I know. They didn't want to hurt your self-esteem. That's why they said you were
good. At the same time, they wanted to convince themselves that you were good."
As Felicity said that, she hit Vermont on the shoulder and added, "You have to thank me. Otherwise, you would be kept in the
dark all your life, and you wouldn't have known about your dysfunction!"
Vermont gritted his teeth and pushed her hand away. "I'm not thanking you! " He slapped her feet, got up, and left the room with
his phone.
Felicity did not budge from her seat. "Vermont, don't go! It's just a joke. Come on. Being a quick shooter can be a good thing. It's
fast and painless... n

The door slammed shut with a bang after that. Felicity immediately lay on the couch with one leg crossed over her knee, and her
toes were wiggling happily. She picked up her phone and saw that they were giving virtual money pouches in the work group
chat. Felicity immediately clicked on the virtual money pouch and got twenty dollars. While thinking about grabbing coffee
tomorrow with the money she got, she suddenly saw that the virtual money pouches were sent by the asshole screenwriter.
Felicity scrolled the group chat only to find that the jerk was celebrating the start of production for his script-the one she had
revised. She felt that the money she received was now dirty money. However, before she could return the money to the
screenwriter, the other party sent a text saying, [I'm sooo jealous of those on leave. They get to relax at home while we have to
work our asses off in the middle of the night to make the script better.]
His message made Felicity sick. But, she tried to stay calm because she did not want to start a fight in the company group chat.
Felicity pretended that she did not see the text and asked her colleagues for the screenwriter's PayPal account. That way, she
could give the twenty dollars back. She did not want him to think that she needed the money.
While she was busy transferring the money over to him, one of her colleagues said in the group chat, [Ask the boss for a leave if
you want. I'm sure he'd give it to you.]
[I can't. There are too many tasks at hand.]
[Just get your assistant to do it.]
[Hah. Forget it. The youngsters these days aren't capable. They have good ideas but poor execution. She'll dig you a grave
before you ask her to do something. I'd rather do everything myself than have an assistant who talks shit about me in group
chats just because she can't accept my criticism.]
Felicity tried her best to hold back, but she could no longer stand him. She texted, [Hey, jerk! You wanna pick a fight? I recall a
bastard begging me to revise the script for him, and when I said I didn't want to, he told me that he'd give me credit. When I
finished, you told me you were not satisfied with my work, but you sold it to a film group without changing a single thing. When I
confronted you about it, you threatened to ruin my friend's name. And now, you're saying that I'm the one who's incapable?]