<b>Chapter 409</b>


    His eyes crinkled with a smirk, “Either way, I can afford it.”


    ” ”


    I was at a loss for words, because, well, he wasn’t wrong. All I could do was nod in agreement, “Alright, then I… better get going. I’ll have it delivered to the Ferguson Mansion once it’s ready.”


    By the time I got back to Janedream, there was someone already waiting in the office.


    Mark nced at me, a look of resignation on his face, “Howe you dashed off to the States without saying a word? If it weren’t for my call with Dave, I’d have no clue you were back.”


    “I saw on your social media that you were traveling for work.”


    I chuckled, “Thought I’d wait for you to get back before catching up.”


    No sooner had the words left my mouth than Christine clicked in on her heels, eyebrows raised in a yful challenge, “So, did you manage to secure it this time?”


    I nodded, “Got it.”


    “For real?”


    She was skeptical, “Show me, then.”


    I had told herst night that I was meeting Bryant to get our divorce papers.


    She doubted it would go smoothly, suspecting some sort ofst–minute snag.


    I handed her the divorce papers, “See for yourself. Genuine.”


    Last time, naivety got the better of me, allowing Bryant to trick me with a forged document.


    Christine’s face lit up with glee, “Finally, you’re free from that mess of a marriage.”


    09.25


    Mark seemed taken aback, “You and Bryant are officially divorced<b>?</b><b>”</b>


    “Yeah, just today.”


    “Well, let’s celebrate. Dinner’s on me tonight.”


    Mark chuckled, “First, to wee you back, and second, to celebrate your divorce.”This content belongs to N?/velDra/ma.Org .


    “Generous!”


    Christine gave him a thumbs up, “Can we go all out?”


    “Knock yourselves out.”


    #


    n


    I couldn’t help butugh, leaving the arrangements to them.


    After Linda’s debacle, I knew better than to leave crucial designs unattended


    in the office.


    Before heading out, I packed up my drafting board and left with them.


    Christine had chosen the spot for dinner.


    RiverCity’s most reputable private diner, known for its authentic local cuisine.


    The ambiance was serene.


    As Mark poured us some juice, he casually inquired, “Jane, how long do you n on staying this time?”


    “If all goes well, I might not leave again.”


    The thing is, F country was nice, but it always felt like I was just floating through, never quite settling down.


    Mark paused, then smiled, “When did you decide?”


    “I’ve always felt this way, never intended to settle down in F country…”


    Our conversation paused as the waiter entered with our dishes. My gaze inadvertently drifted towards the door, where I spotted a ck–d bodyguard pushing a wheelchair past.


    This time, without the obstruction of other bodyguards.


    09:25


    It was clear at a nce, the man in the wheelchair was Gregory.


    I excused myself and hurried in the direction he’d gone, only to find no trace of him.


    Standing in the middle of the corridor, I was struck with a moment of confusion, as if the sighting had been a figment of my imagination.


    Suddenly, a door behind me opened.


    It was the woman who had answered the door at River Vi, leaning casually against it, “Looking for Gregory?”


    Christine’s spection from the other day crossed my mind.


    For a moment, I was unsure how to respond.


    Yet, I yearned to know Gregory’s current state.


    Clutching my hands to avoid any misunderstanding, I tried to sound as neutral as possible, “Yes, I’m just an old friend of his. Is he inside?”


    “Gregory,”


    Unexpectedly, the woman swung the door wide open, throwing a look over her shoulder at the man seated at the head of the table, her voiceced with intrigue, “Your ‘old friend‘ is here.”