CHAPTER 168: CHAPTER 168: DIDN’T YOU GET DIVORCED?

Before I could respond, Ivan Underwood hung up the phone. I originally wanted to tell him that Azure Vaughn had returned, but he was busy at work, so I figured I’d wait until tomorrow night when we meet to tell him.

I drove aimlessly on the road, not wanting to go home. The past kept rushing into my mind, and I suddenly felt very melancholic. In my past life, I had breast cancer, and even though I’m alive in this life, I may never become a mother again.

Unknowingly, I found myself driving to the neighborhood near the second factory. As the sky grew darker, the old buildings where the Vaughn Family once lived had been razed to the ground, appearing quite desolate in the night. Everything has changed, people have come and gone.

Why did I come here? As I looked at the vast expanse of night, my thoughts drifted far away.

If things continued as they did in the past life, Elvie Lawson and Walter Vaughn might not be dead yet; they would live well in the future, but everything is already too late.

They really are both saved and ruined by Azure Vaughn.

I sighed softly, just as I was about to leave, a group of people walked towards the construction site. The leading man wore a flashy jacket, was bald, and dressed like a spirited youth despite being in his forties or fifties. His face was fierce, and he was followed by a group of local delinquents, clearly with bad intentions.

I glanced at the time; it was past ten. What were they doing at The Preston Group’s project site?

Suddenly, the group stopped beside my car. My vehicle was turned off, and the window was only slightly ajar for ventilation. Before they noticed me, I did my best to lower myself to avoid being seen.

"Brother Drake, when you go in, just start wrecking things. Those bastards bullied your brother; if they don’t pay up, there’ll be no end to this!" The leading middle-aged man spoke up.

"Got it, Third Master, I’ll put on an Oscar-winning performance!" The man addressed as Brother Drake replied.

Even The Preston Family’s projects have the audacity to face trouble from thugs; they are indeed bold.

"Damn it, this Preston Family is a tough nut to crack. I haven’t gotten a piece of meat from them yet; if word gets out, it would be embarrassing, let’s go inside, and if anyone calls the police, grab their phone!" The leader spat on the ground, grumbling.

Once things quieted down outside, I sat up straight, frowning as I looked at the factory not far away.

After hesitating for a moment, I still dialed the police. At the same time, I sent a message to Crystal Dawson, asking her to inform Silas Lockwood, who would naturally pass the information to Henry Preston.

I felt that if I didn’t call the police, something might happen today; the few workers on duty couldn’t possibly handle a large group of hooligans.

Crystal quickly called me back. After I briefly explained the situation earlier, she replied, "Got it, Silas Lockwood is already contacting Henry Preston, Zoe, you should leave there quickly, it’s not safe."

"Okay, I’m leaving right away." Naturally, I had no intention of staying any longer; I came here today purely because I was in a bad mood and had a momentary lapse in judgment.

The next morning, news of the thugs causing trouble at The Preston Group’s second factory project emerged. Fortunately, the police arrived in time, otherwise, there could have been casualties.

The trouble-making gang, led by Third Master Lawson, has long been regulars at the local police station. Each time, it’s some minor lackeys taking the blame, while Third Master Lawson manages to get away unscathed.

Although he’s just a leader of a gang of ruffians, his nature is inherently bad; he stirs up trouble at small companies, mainly by sending petty criminals to pretend to apply for jobs, then fabricating reasons to cause commotions and extort money.

Many small companies in City A have fallen victim to such disgraceful tactics.

Although The Preston Group need not fear such hooligan gangs, once entangled, it can become quite troublesome. I’ve managed to assist The Preston Group in a small way. I didn’t expect them to find out.

I don’t think The Preston Group would care who made the police report.

Around five in the afternoon, I received a message from Ivan: Eight o’clock, The Windchime Teahouse.

After replying with "Okay," I went to soak in the bath, change clothes, and put on some makeup.

By six-thirty, I set off for The Windchime Teahouse; I ordered a pot of tea for myself and started drinking while waiting for Ivan. It was nearing eight when the door of the private room was pushed open.

But the person entering wasn’t Ivan Underwood, it was Henry Preston, Silas Lockwood, and Jason Forrest.

Silas Lockwood widened his eyes as he saw me. "Oh, someone actually booked this room!"

The tea master accompanying them apologized, "Gentlemen, we don’t deceive people; The Bamboo Suite was booked by a gentleman at one o’clock this afternoon."

Jason Forrest pointed at me, "Is she a gentleman?"

A slight scent of alcohol emanated from them; they must have just finished entertaining clients and came to drink some tea to sober up.

"I can’t say." The tea master replied awkwardly.

Just then, Ivan Underwood’s voice rang out, "What are you all doing here?"

Henry Preston and the others turned around in unison, and Ivan was standing not far behind them, his face serene and composed, as usual.

Henry Preston’s gaze shifted between Ivan and me, then let out an uncomfortable chuckle. "Huh, you booked this place?"

"Yes." Ivan didn’t deny it and glanced at me with his dark eyes.

"Why is she here? Explain." Henry Preston extended his hand, his fingertip pointing towards me.

The calmer the surface, the more dangerous it was—a sign of Henry Preston’s displeasure.

The atmosphere instantly felt uneasy; Silas Lockwood and Jason Forrest exchanged glances, but seemed at a loss for words, merely staring blankly.

Ivan signaled the tea master to leave first. I thought he would properly explain things with ease given his intelligence.

Instead, his remark, "Weren’t you divorced?" nearly made me choke.

Not only was I surprised; Silas Lockwood and Jason Forrest also stood in shock, their jaws nearly dropped.

"What do you mean?" Henry Preston’s voice, like it had been frozen in an ice cellar for ages, emitted a chill.

"Though we’re friends, I don’t think I need to explain my meetings to you, especially since Zoe Hathaway is no longer your wife." Ivan Underwood flatly stated, his gaze steady on Henry Preston, enunciating clearly.

I wished he were more vague; at least I’d feel a bit better temporarily.

I just wanted to discuss the diagnosis result and the matter involving Azure Vaughn with him, not to be the central figure of a heated confrontation.

If I were a bystander to Ivan Underwood’s actions, I’d undoubtedly exclaim "Bravo!"

Unfortunately, I’m not a bystander, but am now enduring four different male gazes, feeling unprecedented psychological pressure.

Henry Preston’s gaze was akin to a sharp knife ready to carve out my bones, while Ivan Underwood remained composed and steady. Silas Lockwood was filled with disbelief, while Jason Forrest was completely engulfed in suspicion; I could almost see the question marks forming on his forehead.

"I’ve been feeling a bit unwell in the chest recently, so I arranged to consult Dr. Underwood," I reluctantly concocted a reason. I’m divorced from Henry Preston, he can’t control me, but knowing his character, it’s best not to provoke trouble.

"Why not go directly to the hospital?" Henry Preston asked grimly.

My rebelliousness was immediately triggered. "Henry Preston, you have no right to manage my affairs, right? Whether I go to the hospital for treatment, or arrange a private meeting with a doctor, that’s my freedom."

"Hey, hey, hey, don’t be agitated, don’t be agitated, everyone, we’re all friends, let’s talk things through!" Silas Lockwood, noticing Henry Preston’s worsening expression, hastily jumped in to mediate.

"Shut up!"

"Shut up!"

Henry Preston and I simultaneously rebuked.

My mood was already bad; the diagnosis results were dreadful, and the person I detested most had shown up once again—my mood couldn’t be worse.

Discussing things with Ivan Underwood was more about seeking comfort, hoping to ease my burden.

Silas Lockwood immediately quieted down, lowering his head meekly.

I picked up my bag and deliberately said to Ivan Underwood, "There are too many eyesores here, let’s go somewhere quieter to talk."

Ivan Underwood nodded, not minding Henry Preston’s opinion.

Just as we were about to leave, Henry Preston’s voice arose again, "Ivan Underwood, are you really going to turn against me for a woman now?"

His eyes burned with chilling anger.

Ivan Underwood paused, expressionless. "No, as long as you remember you’re already divorced from Zoe Hathaway, our relationship shouldn’t be affected."

The implication was that as long as Henry Preston no longer interfered with my matters, it would be fine.

The tension in the air thickened, and I didn’t want to stay a second longer. Without considering the two men’s intentions, I went downstairs and left directly.

As I was about to get in the car, Ivan Underwood followed, "Let’s talk in the car."