CHAPTER 37: CHAPTER 37: WHAT’S WRONG WITH BEING DECENT? WHY BE A DOUBLE STANDARD DOG!

He wasn’t sure whether to be angry that someone found out where Serena Sinclair lived before he did,

or relieved that the other person was human and not a beast, taking the trouble to return her in the rain.

Adrian Lockwood fixed his gaze on Serena Sinclair, who was approaching slowly.

"Is there something you want? Just say it..."

Ignoring Adrian’s question, Serena stopped right in front of the car.

From three to five steps away, he finally saw Serena’s face clearly, and noted what she was wearing.

The nameless fire in Adrian’s heart turned from a spark into a flame, suddenly blazing up.

A white chiffon blouse.

Black suit pants.

Between the cropped pants and high heels was a slender, alabaster ankle.

The epitome of a chic urban woman.

The first year Serena joined The Lockwood Group, she dressed and carried herself just like this.

No one knew she was married then, and the single male employees at The Lockwood Group flocked to her like moths to a flame.

Even upon learning she was taken, some men still courted her, occasionally buying her coffee or picking up her takeout.

If Serena during that period was a white lotus standing gracefully in early summer,

then today’s Serena has already blossomed into a striking red rose.

But it wasn’t under his watchful eyes that she blossomed.

For whom?

The wild man?

"Serena Sinclair, do you insist on divorcing me because you have someone outside?"

Adrian asked in a deep voice.

Serena frowned, "So, after you celebrated Miles’s birthday with Chloe Lynch, announcing to everyone that the new lady of the Lockwood Family is here. Then taking Chloe to Miles’s kindergarten sports day, telling his teachers and classmates that Miles is getting a new mom... you come to ask if I have someone outside?"

"Adrian Lockwood..."

Serena said coldly, "Isn’t it good to be a better person? Why be a double-standard dog!"

Adrian’s face darkened.

Serena turned to leave.

Thinking that if there’s a first, there’ll be a second, Serena looked back at Adrian, "Please don’t disturb me again! If there’s a next time, I’ll move to another man’s house as you wish. I’m sure he’ll be delighted. As for you... if you dare to come, I’m sure the media would love it, don’t you think?"

With a livid face, Adrian almost went after her.

But the thought that Serena would follow through on her words stopped him, knowing that if he chased, paparazzi would be waiting at the Lockwood Group’s door tomorrow.

Adrian had to hold back.

He walked all the way to the alley’s end, still not hearing the sound of a car engine starting and leaving.

Seeing that Adrian hadn’t come after her, Serena breathed a sigh of relief.

Then she looked down and saw the text message from Adrian.

[If you don’t want complications, don’t make unnecessary moves!]

Implying he wouldn’t bother her again if she didn’t block him.

Nine days left.

Without looking at a calendar, she knew the Monday after next would be the day to get their marriage license.

Having endured this long, the end of the one-month cooling-off period was finally in sight.

Serena couldn’t help but curse those so-called "experts" who suggested the cooling-off period for the N+1th time.

In the lively, bustling private room, Wyatt Hawthorne’s phone on the coffee table lit up briefly.

Wyatt sat up.

Someone beside him had already peered over to take a look.

Then they looked at Wyatt with a peculiar expression, "Bro, Uncle Warren from the wonton shop says he wants to talk to you."

Crown Prince of the Capital Elite.

Uncle Warren from the wonton shop.

These two phrases are worlds apart, aren’t they?

Yet Wyatt seemed very interested, rising and taking his phone outside.

"Hey, Uncle Warren? What’s up?"

"Boss, I just saw Ms. Sinclair talking to a man driving a Mercedes at the alley’s entrance..."

"Uncle Warren..."

Wyatt interrupted, "The only reason I’m willing to invest money so you can keep the wonton shop running is that I love those wontons. Don’t make your own decisions, don’t meddle, know what I mean?"

The other side got it instantly, "Boss, my bad!"

Beep.

Beep beep.

The unexpected call ending made Wyatt glance at his phone and shake his head with a laugh.

Wyatt sat back on the corner sofa, and Julian Rivera pushed away the girl in his arms, leaning over, "Bro, level with your little brother, what’s really been going on lately?"

As far as business matters, not to mention the Hawthorne Corporation being unlikely to run into trouble,

even if they did, Julian wouldn’t be able to help.

That only leaves people and affairs otherwise.

For anyone Wyatt wanted, Julian would find and deliver them under covers if necessary.

For any task, all Wyatt needed was a word, and Julian would handle it promptly.

But Wyatt remained inscrutable, as if nothing had happened.

So mysterious it made Julian uneasy.

"Like money?"

Wyatt asked instead of answering.

Julian squinted, "No kidding!"

"Then buy more Lockwood Group stock recently!"

Wyatt’s single sentence left Julian stunned, "Lockwood? Which Lockwood? Adrian Lockwood’s Lockwood?"

No kidding!

How many Lockwoods are there in Aethelgard?

Just a glance from Wyatt showed Julian his incompetence.

Julian looked bewildered, "What’s there to buy about Lockwood’s stock? As my old man says, under Adrian’s hands, the Lockwood Group is average at best. Bro, you’re not fooling me, right? Your little brother hasn’t wronged you lately, has he?"

Just as he spoke, he met Wyatt’s sidelong glance.

Recalling the phone’s exaggerated sarcastic comment.

Julian rubbed his cold nape, "Bro, got it! Thanks, bro!"

"Bro, one last question! I... how much should I buy?"

"...Like money?"

"No kidding!"

"Then roll up your sleeves and go for it hard!"

"...So, when to sell?"

"That’s a second question, requires a fee!"

"...Bro, bro, I..."

"Stop calling me bro! Why does it bother me so much when you do!... Wednesday after next!"

???

Could it be that precise?

Julian was still dazed.

Wyatt had already opened the door and left.

"Bro, I mean... Young Master Hawthorne, if it succeeds, you take seventy percent, if it loses, it’s my own!"

The raised voice was drowned out by even louder, heavier beats outside.

Wyatt walked downstairs, hands in pockets.

"Hey, handsome, wanna go out?"

A slightly tipsy beauty came his way, emboldened by her buzz.

Wyatt smoothly sidestepped her.

He walked through the crowd and out of the bar.

After the downpour, the air was fresh and clean.

The Ferrari roared down the street, then stopped at the alley entrance.

In the late night, the wonton shop was already closed.

The alley was shrouded in silence.

Wyatt didn’t get out of the car.

He quietly sat inside and called Ryan Rhodes, "How do you suppose we tear down this area around the wonton shop, and then make sure the residents move into the houses I want them to move into?"

Thinking about the location of the wonton shop, Ryan gasped, "Please hold on..."

In the quiet cabin, the sound of that first head tearing and tapping was clearly audible.

Imagining Ryan’s calculator smoking from overuse.

Wyatt’s gaze wandered through the side window to infinity.

"Rough estimation, demolition costs over ten billion, not counting reconstruction."

Ryan said on the other end, "As long as those remaining holdouts are dealt with, moving shouldn’t be a problem."

Who wouldn’t want to receive a huge demolition fee and then move into a new house?

Hence, relocation isn’t the issue, demolition is the key.

"What if it’s a renter?"

???

The mind froze for a moment.

Ryan thought he must have misheard.

His wise, invincible boss couldn’t possibly ask such a naive, foolish question, "What did you say?"

A drop of water fell on the window’s edge, landing in his palm.

Wyatt snapped back to reality.

"Nothing..."

Wyatt rolled up the car window, started the engine, and drove away, "Get some rest early... Happy weekend!"

Ryan: ...