She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 373: Anger He leaned close to her ear and warned, "This is not a place you should be. You walk from here to the right side of the hall and there's a staircase. Tell the guards my nand leave quickly!" Cheyenne was shocked, but luckily her mask concealed her expression. However, her widened eyes and slightly parted red lips still revealed her reaction to Kelvin.

His lips curled lightly. "Why are you so surprised?" She thought she was already clever enough, finding Soar Casino and TWILIGHT in the Dark League, but it seemed like Kelvin, that bastard, was always one step ahead of her. The sthing happened at Soar Casino, where that old man even let him in through the VIP channel! Damn it, just thinking about it made her frustrated. Cheyenne made no movement. She wasn't here to play; she hadn't investigated the situation thoroughly yet, so she couldn't leave. Besides, why should she mention his name? They were divorced, and she had nothing to do with him anymore. She didn't have to endure his male chauvinism.

Just because he beca boss, he thought he could give orders wherever he went? She wouldn't comply. Sitting with her legs crossed and arms folded, she continued to sit there. The person on stage had been replaced by a new prisoner, accused of the sin of lust. As for the punishment, Cheyenne had lost interes in watching.

Seeing her uncooperative attitude, Kelvin's gaze dimmed, and he subtly furrowed his brows. He couldn't help but think about how she almost exposed herself when she suddenly stood up earlier. He helplessly said, "If you want to stay, that's fine, but don't make any reckless moves, so you don't hinderlater." After he finished speaking, he remained seated next to her, showing no intention of leaving.

However, Cheyenne coldly hummed, "I should be reminding you not to hinder me! And we're not close, so stay away from me!" Why did he have to cover here and squeeze into this seat when there were so many empty ones nearby? Not close? Kelvin's face immediately darkened, as he silently thought, 'We just kissed each other, and now you claim that we're not close?' She was truly heartless.

In the Lawrence Villa, Iker was still sitting on the couch in his black checkered pajamas.

The book in his hands had been open for a while, but he hadn't read a single word.

Occasionally, he would raise his sore neck and glance at the clock on the wall. The hour hand was still at “7,” while the minute hand had only moved a right angle.

Suddenly, Iker felt that twas passing so slowly when Cheyenne wasn't by his side.

After a few more seconds, he couldn't help but ask Tanner next to him, "What tdid she leave?" Tanner held a bunch of dried crying grass in his hand, while his other hand held a pair of scissors as he helped old Mr. Edwards organize the herbs. When he heard Iker's question, he silently muttered to himself, "The fourth time." This was not at all like Iker's usual style.

"Miss Lawrence left at 6:40, so it's been exactly an hour now. But if TWILIGHT starts at 7, then Miss Lawrence should have only been inside for half an hour." "It's been half an hour, and she still hasn't returned. I hope nothing has happened." His worry deepened, and his handsface becserious, which surprised Tanner.

"You probably haven't been to a bar before, Master Iker, so you wouldn't know. Normally, people stay at a bar for at least two to three hours. Speople even party all night." All night! Iker indeed had never been to a bar. If he wanted to drink, he had a room specifically for storing fine wines. The Todd family had nothing but money and alcohol.

Unable to help his blackened face, Iker asked deeply, "All night? What are they doing in there?" Tanner didn't dare openly mock his ignorance, so he pursed his lips and looked outside. Familiar with the topic, he said, “What else can they do? Engage in ssexual intercourse when drunk, right?" As soon as the last word fell, a look of disbelief flashed in Iker's eyes as he thoughtfully looked at Tanner. "Have you done it too?" Tanner touched his nose and, blushing slightly, continued to work on the herbs. Shyly, he answered softly, "I've thought about it, but I never had the chance." "Coward!" As he thought about how seductive and beautiful Cheyenne looked when she left, Iker wondered about her alcohol tolerance...

He regretted even more for not having Tanner accompany her.

Just then, there was a knock on the door from outside.

Both of them glanced at each other, and Tanner stood up with a knowing look, hurrying to open the door. Standing there was a figure in white.

"Mr. Zamora, why are you here?" Eddie wiped off the sweat beads from his forehead. His white coat had stains of various colors - red, green, purple - making him look like he had just been pulled out of a dyeing vat.

His eyes immediately looked towards the second floor room as he anxiously asked, “Is Cheyenne here? I need to talk to her urgently." Iker had met Eddie a few times, and their relationship was not close but cordial. He knew Eddie was Cheyenne's good friend's brother, and that was about it.

"Why do you need to see Miss Lawrence? She went out, and we don't know when she'll be back," Iker replied.

Desperate for help, Eddie needed to trust Master Iker since Cheyenne wasn't around. He revealed the purpose of his visit directly.

"Master Iker, the potions have been stolen, and Mr. Owen is missing. You have significant influence in Akloit, can you helpfind him?" "What? Mr. Owen is missing!"

"Yes, it's been several days since I could reach him. I went to the Owen m family just now, and the servants now, and said he hasn't returned for a few days." Eddie couldn't help but worry about whether something had happened to the director. Both of these matters were troublesome, and he had no choice but to seek Cheyenne's help.

"Tanner, gather speople to help with the search. Mr. Zamora, cwithto the police station to file a report." "Alright." Only half an hour had passed, and six people were already dead on stage. Each one of them was a vibrant life.

Fresh blood flowed along the dark edges of the stage, forming a small waterfall due to the forty-centimeter drop between the stage and the ground. "Splash..." It was ominous black and eerie red.

As it approached eight o'clock, the masked man in black brought the man at the end of the rope in front of att the crowd for the final judgement.

"Jonathan Owen, sixty-two years old, Director of Hopedale Hospital. The crcommitted - anger." When he was pushed in front of everyone, Cheyenne stared fixedly at the old man on stage, her heart in a state of turmoil.

X Her red lips slightly parted, "Jo-Jonathan!" Why was he here?