<b>Chapter </b><b>391 </b>


    681


    Jared snapped at me, but I could tell he was genuinely worried something might happen to me. Right then, some of the grudge! held against him faded away.


    I kept my voice gentle as I chatted with Jared for a bit longer, then hung up.


    Ryan stood by, watching me, his clear eyes shadowed with a touch of sadness.


    Holding my phone, I nced at him. Ryan asked, “Your ex–husband still cares about you?”


    I nodded.


    Ryan’s gaze grewplicated as he stared at me for a couple seconds, but he didn’t say anything else.


    At noon, I headed to the police station to give my statement. There, I saw the man who had attacked me.


    The way he looked at me sent a chill down my spine. Maybe it was because his n had failed and he’d been caught, but there was frustration, hatred, and a sick glint in his eyes.


    Even though I was scared, I kept my cool and stared him down.


    When ites to evil, running away only makes them bolder. I had the guts to face him head–on.


    When I stepped out of the station, Ryan was waiting for me in the car. He spoke softly, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure a guy like that learns his lesson.”


    I paused, looking at him. There was a cold glint in Ryan’s eyes. “Trash like him deserves to be wiped out–no one wants to see him back on the streets.”


    I understood what he meant and whispered, “Thanks.”


    With Ryan’s words, I finally felt at ease.


    Even if it means bending the rules a little, as long as it keeps someone else from getting hurt, this is the fairest way.


    After what happened, I took a couple days off. Ryan seemed to have some important matters to deal with too, so he didn’t check in on me these past two days.


    On the third day, I headed back to the office. That afternoon, a future big client invited me and a few higher–ups to y golf.


    I didn’t know the first thing about golf, but I went along anyway–anything to helpnd the deal.


    The client was a VIP member here, with his own private lounge. He said the annual fee was 600 grand, just for that spot.


    Rich folks sure know how to live. I remembered Jared had a bunch of these fancy memberships, but whenever he went out for


    work or y, he almost never took me along.


    Honestly, I had no clue what kind of memberships Jared actually had.


    Thinking about it<b>, </b>I couldn’t help butugh at myself for a few seconds.


    I changed into a white tracksuit and tied my hair back into a ponytail. Even though I didn’t know how to y <b>golf, </b><b>that </b><b>didn’t </b><b>stop </b>me from going along to admire their skills.


    <b>07:49 </b>Tue, 20 Aug


    “Victoria…” Just as our group wasughing and getting ready to head to the course, a man’s voice called out to <b>me</b>.


    I turned around–what a coincidence. There was Jared, dressed in a ck tracksuit, with Amy in blue and white stripes beside <b>him</b>, along with a few international clients.


    Amy was busy chatting and introducing the guests, while Jared was talking with someone else. But when he saw me, his expression changed.


    My heart sank a little. ‘Is he surprised to see me at a high–end ce like this?‘ I wondered.


    “Mr. Hob, what a coincidence! I invited Ms. Murphy over to discuss some business,” said the middle–aged man next to me, Mr. Wright, who knew Jared, greeting him with a smile.


    Jared nodded in acknowledgment, but his gaze lingered on me for a few seconds.


    I followed Mr. Wright and his group into the car, bringing along a young guy and girl from my team. Both of them were smooth talkers, totally business–savvy, and knew exactly how to handle people.


    With them helping me entertain Mr. Wright and his group, I actually felt like an executive myself.


    Our area was pretty close to Jared’s. All I had to do was look up and I could spot him.


    I actually wanted to pick up some of those fancy business golf moves, so I started practicing my swing. I had no clue what I was doing, but Mr. Wright was right there, eager to show me the ropes.


    You could tell he’d heard I was clueless about golf and jumped at the chance to y coach.


    Mr. Wright was in his fifties, and every time I flubbed a swing and tried not tough, he’d just chuckle too. “You know, when you get older, you realize that spark you have when you’re young–it never reallyes back.”


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