By the time the statement was finished, it was already dark.
The office next door had been arguing the whole time, like they were going to vent all the resentment they'd built up over the years.
Willow thought about it and still went over to say hello to Mrs. Salazar.
Luckily, when she saw her, Mrs. Salazar's emotions had stabilized quite a bit, and her wound had already been treated.
"I dragged you into this, but you're a real one. I'll contact you again after I'm done dealing with things here."
Willow nodded and didn't take it to heart.
After all, in a world of fame and money, polite small talk is the last thing you can take seriously.
As soon as she walked out, under the bright lights, a man in a white dress shirt and black slacks was leaning against a sports car, a cigarette between his lips. Smoke curled around him, but it couldn't hide his unruly brows and eyes.
Willow had thought there wouldn't be any follow-up between them, but she hadn't expected to see him here.
The phone in her bag buzzed. She opened the screen, and a message successfully explained why she would see Victor here.
In less than a day, the news that she, in order to help Victor land the deal, had run off to be Spencer's mistress and gotten caught by the wife had already spread like wildfire.
Willow suddenly laughed, but there was more helplessness in that smile.
She put her phone away, stepped down the stairs, and chose to ignore Victor.
But he was clearly waiting for her. He lifted his leg, walked in front of her, and blocked her path.
"Still throwing a tantrum?"
The man in front of her had a pair of peach-blossom eyes, looking affectionate at anyone.
After countless heartbreaks, Willow would still be fooled by those eyes, to the point that she wasted eight years of her youth on him.
She took a step back, widening the distance between them. There was no expression on her face.
"Move."
Victor scratched between his brows and smiled as he stepped forward to press closer.
"Willow, okay, stop it. About what happened before, I sincerely apologize. I know you still have me in your heart. Let's be good."
"I'm married." Willow really didn't want to keep getting tangled up with him.
Victor's expression changed slightly. After a moment, he curled his lips into a smile.
"You mean the marriage with the Farley family?"
Willow didn't speak.
She neither admitted it nor denied it.
Her hesitation fell into Victor's eyes and immediately became proof that she was lying.
"Jesse Farley is in Melbourne right now."
Willow raised her eyebrows and didn't expose him. "So what?"
Victor frowned slightly, as if he could see her frankness and seriousness. A trace of subtle anger suddenly appeared on his face. "So you really got the certificate with Jesse?"
Jesse's matter hadn't blown up, but people like them more or less knew some of it, and they also knew the Farley family's intention in choosing Willow as a granddaughter-in-law at this time.
Since it was a temporary patch-the-hole role, naturally there wouldn't be any grand wedding.
Or rather, even if there was a wedding, the Farley family's banquet wasn't somewhere they could go just because they wanted to.
Willow still didn't know whether Theodore was willing to make this marriage public, so she could only be vague and change the subject. "Mr. Henson should worry more about your girlfriend. My business is none of your concern. I hope you stay farther away from me in the future."
She walked past Victor. Just as she lifted her head, a bodyguard in black stepped forward and said respectfully, "Hello, ma'am. I'm Lincoln, Mr. Farley's personal bodyguard. Mr. Farley specifically had me come pick you up and take you home."
The bodyguard in front of her was different from other bodyguards. Others had big pecs and were bulky; he looked thin and tall, and his whole person gave off a sharp edge. With a black suit on him, it added a bit more of that suit-wearing thug vibe.
Willow's gaze circled over him and slowly landed on the luxury sedan behind him.
She recognized the license plate—an entire string of lucky numbers. When Theodore went to the Mason residence to pick her up, he was in this very car.
Only after confirming his identity did she nod in response.
Lincoln walked to the car and opened the door first.
Just as Willow was about to bend down and get in, Victor chased up, disbelief still lingering in his eyes.
He wanted to question Willow about how long she planned to keep playing around, but Lincoln didn't give him any chance to get close.
"Mr. Henson, please conduct yourself."
Victor had never thought anyone would say the words "please conduct yourself" to him.
The hand hanging at his side clenched tight, veins bulging. "Move."
Lincoln didn't budge at all, his expression unchanged.
Victor was so furious he laughed. Just as he was about to make a move, a patrol car returned from duty. The siren sound wandered back and forth in the air, forcibly pressing down the fire in his heart.
Watching that car gradually disappear into the flow of traffic, Victor cursed under his breath and kicked his own tire.
He didn't even know why. Clearly, he had never cared about Willow, but now, seeing her get into another man's car, he actually felt irritated.
When he drove to the bar, a group of people were already waiting for him.
"Victor, how'd it go? Did you get the contract?"
A man stood up, poured a glass of liquor, and respectfully handed it to Victor.
It would've been fine if they didn't mention it, but once they did, Victor's face looked awful. He kicked over the table.
That move instantly scared the men and women who had been joking around into silence.
This group had been following Victor for so long, and they'd never seen him lose his temper this badly.
The man who had just poured him a drink waved his hand, drove out all the irrelevant people who were waiting to hear gossip, and efficiently pulled out a cigarette and handed it over.
"Victor, what's going on?"
Victor took a deep breath, exhaustion all over his brows and eyes. "Go check Jesse Farley's itinerary, and also his marital status."
The man froze. "Victor, did something happen?"
Victor lifted his eyes and glanced at him. The man immediately shut his mouth, nodded, accepted the errand, and walked out.
The door closed, and the private room fell into a deathly silence.
Victor leaned back on the sofa and suddenly felt his stomach hurt a little.
Instinctively, he wanted to take out his phone and call Willow, but in a flash, the image of her not looking back surfaced in front of his eyes.
That license plate—if he hadn't mistaken it—was a Farley family plate.
These days, news kept popping up that Willow wanted to climb the social ladder and marry into a rich family, but he didn't believe it.
Not to mention what kind of family the Farleys really were, and whether Willow could even climb up to them—just Willow as a person, she couldn't possibly leave him.
All these years, she had been chasing after him, and no matter who tried to persuade her, it was useless.
But the scene tonight made him realize that something seemed to have quietly changed.
Thinking of this, Victor felt inexplicably irritated. He stubbed out the cigarette between his fingers, stood up, and walked out.
Downstairs in the dance floor, there were seductive figures everywhere. Usually, when he was bored, he would order a drink and sit at the bar for a while, and naturally there would be social butterflies pouncing on him, but tonight, he wasn't in the mood.
When he got home, he stood in the entryway looking at the pitch-black living room. His mind was in a mess, full of Willow.
From the moment she got into the Farley family's car, he had always had an uncomfortable feeling.
That feeling was very subtle, like something was slowly being pulled away.
He gave a self-mocking smile, then took out his phone and called Bonnie Head.
It was just a woman.
What Victor lacked the least was women.
