As Harry Zachary drove into the gates of the villa community, he made a call to Hannah Hargrave. By the ti the black jeep pulled up to Nicholas Croft’s villa, Hannah was already waiting at the door.
She wore a maroon shirt with a matching short skirt, and a beige trench coat over it. Her long hair fluttered in the wind, making her look like a picture-perfect scene from afar. But beneath that beautiful facade hid a filthy and malicious heart.
"Been waiting long?" Harry didn’t get out of the car, but rolled down the window and smiled at Hannah.
Hannah glanced at him unhappily, then walked around the back of the car towards the passenger seat.
"Why did it take you so long to do so side work? Isn’t the salary I give you enough for pocket money?" Hannah asked gloomily after getting into the passenger seat, while Harry’s smile was sowhat inscrutable.
"Miss, who would ever have too much money? Better earn more while I’m young; what will I live on in a few years for retirent?"
"Drive!" Hannah ordered angrily, seemingly uninterested in the topic Harry ntioned. She was a shrewd woman, unlike her foolish mother. Although she was intimate with Harry, she only gave him a high salary, not like her mother who was lavish, handing out millions at a ti.
That’s why Harry remained devoted while serving Josephine Hawthorne.
"Hotel or my place?" Harry drove the car around the villa and went out from the back road.
"Cut the crap!" Hannah snapped coldly, looking ahead with an unpleasant expression.
Harry shook his head and laughed, thinking Hannah was upset about his lateness. What he didn’t know was that her anger wasn’t- caused by that. It was because Nicholas Croft returned without even calling her, his legitimate wife, and instead took that vixen to their love nest directly.
Harry’s residence in T City was an ordinary residential area, a much safer place for secret etings than a hotel since it wouldn’t catch the tabloids’ attention.
The black jeep drove into its designated parking garage, and the two got out separately from both sides.
Harry walked over to Hannah’s side and lifted his hand to put around her shoulder, only to have her brush it off disdainfully.
"Be careful, if the paparazzi catch a photo, you’ll have mouths full of explanations that won’t clear up anything!"
Being in the entertainnt industry, he was quite experienced in avoiding sneaky snapshots.
Looking at Hannah’s retreating figure, Harry sneered, only coming out of the parking garage after she’d walked a while.
In the past, he envied Nicholas Croft, having such an outstanding and perfect woman—beautiful, capable, and from a good family. Why wouldn’t he cherish her? But now it seed... everything made sense.
A fem fatale, a wicked woman... these descriptors didn’t seem the least bit exaggerated for Hannah.
On one hand, she appeared desperately in love with Nicholas, while on the other, she secretly fooled around with him. He genuinely wondered what this woman was thinking.
If she liked n, she could simply find a robust one. With her financial capability, why cling stubbornly to this dying tree, Nicholas?
They entered the apartnt building one after the other, unaware that in a hidden spot, soone dressed in a trench coat and hat had already taken countless photos.
At the Hargrave Family’s villa, Henry Hargrave had fallen hard, sustaining several abrasions on his wrist and face, and his forehead was wrapped in gauze.
The family doctor bandaged his wounds, gave so instructions, and then left carrying the dical kit.
Josephine Hawthorne cheerfully saw the doctor off, but once she turned around to Henry, her expression imdiately changed.
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