Chapter 286
The elevator doors had swung open.
Jarrett kept Eloise at bay inside the elevator, then thoughtfully pressed the button for the underground parking
lot, saying, "Ms. Harwood, our ride's waiting on the ground level. You best head back on your own." Seeing
Kieran reject her, Eloise felt a sharp pang in her heart. Kieran had always pampered her before. It was the first
the'd rushed her away like this.
A nameless sense of foreboding surged within her. Women's intuition could be irrationally accurate. Kieran must
have found someone he fancied.
Outside the Sutton Group, as Kieran watched the car pull away, Jarrett reported, "Ms. Harwood should have left
by now."
"Check the employees. Find out who's been tipping her off."
"Only the secretarial department knows your schedule. I'll start digging and find the mole."
"Once you find them, kick them out." Kieran's tone was cold as he said, "The Sutton Group has no place for
traitors." ""Understood."
The night was quiet. In Preston's study, Freya was rotating her somewhat loose wrists. Her left hand began to
numb.
After a day's effort, her handwriting was finally legible. But it was still far from Preston's ability to write with both
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇthands equally well.
"He can write identically with both hands... What monster..." Freya murmured, not noticing Preston had walked in
until he spoke indifferently, "A monster like me."
Startled by his sudden presence, Freya looked up sharply. Indeed, Preston had entered the room without her
noticing.
Noting it was nine o'clock at night, Preston handed Freya a drink.
Eyeballing the dark red concoction with suspicion, Freya hesitated, "What kind of drink is this? | don't usually
have beverages at night."
"It's sour cherry juice."
"Sour cherry juice?" Freya looked puzzled at Preston, asking, "Why givethis?"
"You've been skipping meals at night for years, which isn't great for your stomach. You're used to it, but this juice
can help improve your
swnove.n
stomach health. Eventually, vol. ne start feeling hungry at nov
"Really?" Freya eyed the sour cherry juice, the tart aroma wafting up. Finally, she closed her eyes and downed
the drink in one go. The juice was a sweet and sour mix, primarily of cherries but with odd flavors.
"What else did you put in besides sour cherries?"
"A secret recipe." Preston's tone was nonchalant.
Freya regarded him skeptically.
A secret recipe? What in the world?
The room was lit only by a m
warm-toned desk (ako THe &dnitent
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Preston casually sat on a couch
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21?
Wy, looking relaxed, a stark
contrast to his intimidating demeanor earlier.
Tticked by.
Using her left hand, Freya struggled
to finish an economics essay she
had been mulling over Before she
cquld siyn@e¥ name, Preston
stepped forward and picked up the
paper from her. Preston slowly read,
"The Echo City Economic Essay..."