When Marco first saw Cheyenne standing in the crowd, shining brightly, he knew she was beautiful from a distance.
Seeing her up close only made her more real and captivating.
Despite her light makeup, her naturally charming features made her an eye-catcher.
In Cheyenne’s presence, Marco felt a self-inflicted sense of inferiority and embarrassment.
“Miss Lawrence, why are you here?” he asked, but Cheyenne didn’t even look at him. Instead, her gaze was fixed on Emelia, elegantly swaying the highball glass in her hand.
Inside the glass, a blood-red liquid flowed smoothly, reflecting Emelia’s pale face, making her look especially pitiful. “It’s been a long time, Emelia,” Cheyenne said.
Boom! Emelia’s mind went blank for a moment. She had been pondering a question: How long had it been? It did seem quite a while. Was it a few years? Maybe three or four? Despite the time that had passed, information about her could be found in various media.
Emelia took a deep breath and, with forced composure, asked, “Why are you looking for me?” She didn’t want to see Cheyenne, so her tone wasn’t very pleasant.
Cheyenne smiled faintly, indifferent to Emelia’s attitude. Seizing the opportunity as a waiter passed by with a tray, Cheyenne picked up a glass of wine, turned, and handed it to Emelia. “I believe you already know why I’m here. This drink… is a toast to you.”
Emelia frowned and didn’t reach out to take the glass, creating an awkward atmosphere. Marco, astonished, couldn’t believe his wife knew someone like Cheyenne. He was about to feel delighted, but Emelia’s cold and distant attitude startled him.
“Emelia, this is Miss Lawrence. Could you please show some respect when you speak to her?” Marco, fearing the consequences if Miss Lawrence got angry, wore a fawning smile.
After scolding his wife, Marco wore a fawning smile and said to Cheyenne, “I apologize, Miss Lawrence. Emelia has a bit of a childish temper. Please don’t mind her.”
“I’ll talk to her later about how she can be so disrespectful to you.”
Seeing her husband groveling to please Cheyenne, Emelia felt an overwhelming sense of humiliation. “Enough, Marco. Can you step aside and let me talk to her?” Emelia suddenly erupted.
Marco felt a bit embarrassed being scolded in public, and his smiling face gradually faded.
“At night, you better explain everything to me, or we’ll get a divorce.” After uttering these cold words, Marco turned away and walked to the other side of the sofa.
He quickly joined a young lady in a dance, appearing deliberately flirtatious to get Emelia’s attention.
Observing this, Cheyenne chuckled disdainfully. Her tone was indifferent. “Although you’re not a good person, and I don’t like you, from a woman’s perspective, I have to say, let go of such a man. No manners, chauvinistic, and immature… If Kelvin dared to behave like this in front of me, I’d slap him without hesitation.”
After hearing Cheyenne’s words, Emelia’s face showed a self-deprecating expression. “You are, as always, arrogant and think highly of yourself. Not everyone can have a group of high-quality suitors around them like you. For ordinary girls, finding someone decent to spend their lives with is not easy.”
Cheyenne was indeed fortunate. Not only did she melt the icy Kelvin, but she also received open affection from Omari, silent attention from Iker, and the gentle admiration of the elegant music genius Benson. Any one of these men would be a dream come true for women in the city, yet they all revolved around her alone.
Listening to Emelia’s jealous remarks, Cheyenne opened her mouth to respond but thought better of it. Why bother explaining to her?
“Do as you wish. I came here today with just one question for you,” Cheyenne said before Emelia rudely interrupted with, “No comment!” Feeling that she wasn’t close enough to Cheyenne to speak truthfully, Emelia’s denial didn’t provoke any anger from the latter.
Cheyenne took out her phone and opened a photo – a screenshot of Vincent from the surveillance footage. Although it was just a silhouette, how could Emelia, his own sister, not recognize him? Emelia, feeling a bit panicked, held her breath and stared at the photo, her pupils dilating.
“Your reaction tells me that the person in the photo is Vincent,” Cheyenne concluded. Emelia hurriedly denied it, her voice growing louder, “No, he’s not! I have no idea who he is.”
Emelia was quickly thinking. Cheyenne probably knew about her brother still being in Akloit, but she hadn’t caught him. Then… her brother’s whereabouts might be exposed, and the thought worried Emelia.
Cheyenne lightly scoffed, handing the photo to Emelia. “Right, you may not know Vincent, but you should know Pato, right? You’ve visited him five times in the past few years. Do you want me to give you the exact times?” Cheyenne seemed to know.
Emelia clenched her teeth. She couldn’t let this despicable woman deceive her. If the truth about her brother came out, he…
“Do you want me to list Pato’s crimes?” Cheyenne continued. “He participated in child trafficking, intentional murder, and stealing national secrets… It’s a confirmed death penalty. And as his relative, when the police catch him, you’ll be arrested as an accomplice, sentenced to a minimum of three years.”
How many three-year periods did one have in a lifetime? Three years were long, and Emelia couldn’t bear the thought of losing everything to another woman during that time, be it her husband or her son.
After her release, she would still carry the stigma, living her life as a pariah, enduring the humiliation of being treated as a scapegoat. Emelia’s complexion changed, and her eyes seemed to loosen.
“Instead of telling me all this, why don’t you go catch him yourself?”
Cheyenne took a sip of red wine, closing her beautiful eyes and savoring its mysterious and rich flavor.