Chapter 237: Chapter 237: The Little Woman Who Holds Grudges
Warren Prescott kept chewing over the last thing he said.
[Is that how you see me?]
Were those words too heavy?
Warren carefully recalled his usual way of speaking.
It seemed like he always spoke with this tone, and this time there wasn’t any word that seemed particularly heavy.
At that moment, a devious thought crossed his mind; he wanted to climb up the pipe and see what Ashley Shaw was actually doing right now.
Was she really asleep, or was she just deliberately not responding to messages and calls because she was angry?
If it was the latter... he could explain.
He was just upset at the time, and in a moment of urgency, he reflexively asked that question.
Warren took a deep breath, only to feel a lump of resentment in his throat that wouldn’t go away.
If Ashley Shaw were a guy, he’d wish he could just punch her so she’d stick by his side from then on and stop throwing tantrums.
Unfortunately... not only is she not a guy, but she’s also a particularly vengeful little woman.
He couldn’t bring himself to hit her, and even if he could, Ashley Shaw might never want to see him again in this life.
Both soft and hard methods failed, and a punch would feel like hitting cotton.
Annoyed sitting in the car, Warren simply got out and fished out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
It was the same brand Ashley Shaw had gotten for him last time.
A bit strong, he actually didn’t like it much, but it inexplicably felt familiar.
So gradually, he got used to smoking this brand.
With a click, the cigarette was lit, and the smoke blurred Warren’s sharply defined face.
Actually, he didn’t used to smoke.
And he thought those who smoked were idle punks.
But last year, he would never forget that day.
It was the day before the college entrance exams, and he planned to buy some stationery that would be needed during the exams.
Things like 2B pencils to be given to each classmate.
Unexpectedly, after coming out of the largest stationery city in Westcroft, he looked up to see his father walking out of a hotel with a woman about his age.
That woman was the same one who had come to the company recently claiming to be pregnant, and he had just happened to see it.
He even distinctly remembered some details.
Like that day the woman wore a pale pink long dress, and her feet had on high heels of the same style Claudia Jennings had.
He also remembered Lars Prescott’s hand tightly holding the woman, and she readily kissed him on the cheek.
The impact and blow from that scene were tremendous.
He didn’t go over, but with a blank expression, he dumped the big bag of things he bought at a beggar on the roadside.
Then called up a few of his idle friends to his own "Queen" bar.
That’s when he started smoking.
Initially, it was a rebellious act of retaliation, but gradually, whenever he encountered something troubling or needed time to think and calm down, he’d light one up.
It was then he realized that not everyone who smoked was an idle punk; they might also be a heartbroken, helpless person.
Thinking about that day, the cigarette in Warren’s hand was a pointless smoke.
The more he smoked, the more annoyed he became.
He was just about to find a trash can to toss the cigarette butt when a black business car drove into the complex entrance.
Driving home at that time was normal, but what caught Warren’s attention was that the car belonged to Simon Rhodes.
A market price over two million, and very hard to procure.
Anyone in Westcroft who could afford and acquire a "Simon Rhodes" wouldn’t live in this complex.
Warren’s instincts made his gaze follow the car.
And the Simon Rhodes car drove straight toward the building entrance.
Inside the car.
Ashley Shaw, seeing the car driving into the complex, quickly said, "You can drop us at the entrance; we can walk in ourselves."
"No problem."
With those few words, Cillian Xavier drove straight in.
When they were four or five meters from Ariana Grant’s building, Cillian noticed a Maybach parked at the entrance, his expression instantly froze.
A license plate with repeating numbers, and a Maybach, you could easily guess whose car it was.
Almost instantly, Cillian saw Warren Prescott standing in the shadows.
Though in the shadows, his outline was drawn by the moonlight, exuding a distinct coolness.
It was indeed Warren...
In the middle of the night, what’s he doing downstairs at their house?
Ashley Shaw and Ariana Grant sat in the back, completely unaware.
Seeing the car stop, right by the building entrance, both picked up their bags to get out.
"Thank you for the special trip to drop us off, get to the hospital quickly, and remember to drive safely."
Ariana also waved: "Goodbye, classmate Cillian! Thank you for bringing us back."
Cillian kept watching Warren Prescott.
His car had anti-peep film; the outside couldn’t see in.
But strangely, he felt Warren had already seen him.
Hearing the farewell words, Cillian snapped back to his senses.
"Wait a moment..."
Ashley paused, confusion evident in her eyes.
"What’s the matter?"
Cillian didn’t know why, but he just didn’t want Ashley to get out of the car.
He quickly found an excuse.
"Didn’t you leave a charger in my car?"
Ashley lifted her eyelids: "Yes, I remember bringing a charger, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find it."
"I left it at my sister’s room entrance, did you see it when you came out?"
Ashley shook her head: "No, did you leave it by the door?"
"Yeah, let me call home and ask the servant."
Ashley quickly said: "No need for that trouble, it’s just a charger, I’ll buy another at the phone shop opposite the complex tomorrow. Get to the hospital, Miss Bond should already be there, I won’t waste your time, bye!"
With that, Ashley opened the car door and got out.
Cillian still wanted to say something, but struggled to find a reason to make her stay.
He instinctively wanted to open the car door and follow her, but just then his phone rang urgently.
Claire Xavier was calling.
Cillian had no choice but to answer the call.
"Hello, sis?"
"Did Ashley and Ariana arrive?"
"Yeah, they just got here."
"Then hurry back." Claire paused and said, "Ivy Bond’s situation isn’t good."
Cillian’s hand paused on the car door, gripping the phone tighter: "What do you mean by ’not good’?"
"Anyway... come over and see for yourself. That’s it, I’ll hang up now."
The call was quickly cut off.
If this call had come from his parents, it would likely be a ploy to rush him over.
But this call was from his sister.
That meant Ivy Bond was really in trouble.
But wasn’t it just a fall? How could it be "not good"?
Cillian didn’t dwell longer, he closed the slightly open car door, then rolled down the window.