Chapter 51: Chapter 51: Warren Prescott Hits Someone
Cillian’s heart started to race.
"Okay, when are you free?"
"Anytime."
"Then wait for my message, I’ll arrange it within three days."
"Thank you... Cillian, I, I thank you on behalf of Ariana. If you ever need my help in the future..."
"No need." Cillian interrupted her, saying, "I don’t need your help, and you don’t owe me anything. I’m happy to help you a bit."
Ashley’s heart felt even heavier.
With him saying that, it only added to her pressure.
Cillian seemed to see through her hesitation, and said, "If you really feel awkward, how about we meet alone after seeing Aunt Talbot? I have something to give you."
Ashley nodded without hesitation, "Okay."
It’s just a meeting, something within her comfort zone.
"Alright, you should head up! The fog is heavy tonight."
"Okay. Thanks."
She sincerely thanked him once again and turned toward the hallway.
Cillian heard a "beep" from his car, so he turned to get in.
As the car started, Brooke leaned forward with curiosity.
"What did you guys talk about?"
Cillian shrugged, "Nothing much, just... helping her arrange a meeting with Aunt Talbot."
"Aunt Talbot?"
"Jane Tate."
"Oh... for her friend."
"How did you know?"
"During dinner, Ashley kept telling her friend not to drink cold stuff, and even made a non-spicy lobster dish especially for her."
"I never realized you were so observant."
"I never realized my brother could joke either."
Brooke’s expression grew serious, "But don’t blame me for being a wet blanket; mom and dad might find it hard to accept Ashley. They might not oppose dating, but marriage... that’s a tough one."
"I know."
Brooke wanted to say more but swallowed her words.
Their relationship hasn’t even started; discussing this now is too premature and harsh.
The car drove away, and Ashley reached the entrance.
As she opened the door, she put on a smile.
"Ariana, have you taken the medicine?"
"I have, Ashley, come quickly!" Ariana waved at her, holding a tablet.
Ashley walked over in a few steps and saw Ariana was still reading Lynch Group’s news.
She had little interest and slumped on the sofa, half-heartedly asking, "What’s up? Any developments?"
"No developments. They’ve been trying to suppress trending topics, but it only made people angrier. Many have reported it to the authorities, and now the officials have stated a need for a thorough investigation. If it’s indeed Lynch Group’s issue, this will blow up. Moreover, just overnight, their company’s market value has halved."
Ariana didn’t quite understand the business realm, but she loved surfing the internet, picking up from comments that Lynch Group was almost done for.
"That’s what you call karma!"
"Yeah. Knowing there’s a problem and still launching the phone, that’s indeed loathsome."
Ariana looked over, "Hey, why are you speaking on behalf of consumers? I’m standing up for you."
Ashley touched her forehead, still feeling a slight dull pain.
"What I experienced is nothing. Those consumers who were disfigured by explosions are the real victims."
"Okay! I’m not as broad-minded as you, but I feel this incident avenged you."
It was soon past ten.
Ashley washed up and lay in bed, about to read a few pages before sleeping when her phone rang urgently.
She grabbed her phone to take a look.
It was a call from the sports committee member from her former humanities class.
She wasn’t familiar with him, but she knew he was one of Warren Prescott’s sidekicks. Why would he be calling her?
Feeling suspicious, Ashley answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Ashley, are you free right now?"
Ashley didn’t respond directly, only asked, "What’s up?"
Her intuition told her it was related to Warren.
Sure enough, the next moment, the sports committee member spoke in an anxious tone, "We’re at the bar, Warren drank too much and is fighting... Can you come over?"
Ashley asked expressionlessly, "He’s fighting, and you’re calling me? Did you dial the wrong number?"
"I didn’t dial the wrong number. Do you know who he’s fighting with?"
"I don’t want to know, I’m going to sleep, bye."
Ashley hung up immediately, the more she thought about it, the more amused she found it.
For a split second, she almost thought she was back to being Mrs. Prescott in her past life.
When he got drunk, Uncle Rhodes always called her to pick him up or prepare a hangover soup.
But now, she’s no longer his wife.
She’s her own person.
Ashley flipped through the book; the pages were simple but she couldn’t take in a single word.
Of course, the phone rang again at this moment.
She grabbed her phone and said, "Stop calling me."
"Ashley? What’s wrong?"
It was Claire’s voice.
Ashley’s expression stiffened, quickly explaining, "Sorry, Ms. Grant, I thought it was my classmate calling again."
"Did something happen?"
"It’s nothing... Do you need anything?"
"Oh! I wanted to ask you to check if I left my ring at your place, a platinum plain band. I might have left it on your bathroom sink when I was washing my hands."
"I’ll go check, hold on."
Wearing slippers, she got out of bed and indeed found the ring beside the sink.
It looked quite cheap and heavily worn, unlike something Claire, who wore high-fashion and carried luxury bags every day, would fancy.
But she didn’t ask anything, held her phone, and said, "Found it. It’s here. I can bring it to you at work tomorrow?"
"Can I come to get it now? Without it... I can’t sleep."
Ashley took a deep look at that ring.
It definitely had a story.
She didn’t show any signs of it, held her phone, and said, "Sure, call me when you’re close, and I’ll come down."
"Okay, I’ll head over now."
Ashley picked up the ring and waited in the living room.
Not long after, Claire’s car arrived.
She was alone, without Cillian.
Ashley walked up quickly, leaned on the rolled-down window, and handed over the ring.
"Check if it’s this one."
Claire took one look and nodded, "This is it. I’m so sorry, were you already asleep?"
"Not yet, I sleep later than I did while in school."
Ashley paused before asking, "Ms. Grant, could you give me a ride?"
"It’s so late, where are you going?"
"ClubQueen."
A rather flashy name, but in Chinese, it translates to The Queen’s Bar.
A favorite spot for the young and wealthy locals.
Claire had obviously been there, her face stiffened as she looked at Ashley, scanning her from top to bottom.
"You’re going there? Dressed like that?"
"I’m... going to pick up a friend."