Preston Vance adjusted his glasses and asked calmly, "Are we sure it’s a good idea not to let them up?"
Iris Yates said, "If they co up, then *we’re* the ones who will have a problem."
Preston Vance couldn’t help but laugh.
But he added, "I haven’t had many dealings with Mr. Grant, but... he strikes as obsessive. He won’t give up on anything easily."
As he said this, he shot Chloe Reed a aningful glance.
Chloe Reed’s brows furrowed slightly, a wave of annoyance washing over her.
’That’s Walker Grant for you.’
’If I don’t let him up today, he’ll just find so other way to get in.’
She sighed.
"Let’s eat first," Chloe Reed said. "We’ll cross that bridge when we co to it."
Preston Vance didn’t say anything more.
He didn’t ddle in her affairs, maintaining a perfect, respectful distance.
The taste of the hot pot at brought a fleeting mont of satisfaction.
She finished a bottle of beer, and a pleasant warmth spread through her.
However, the good mont was short-lived.
This ti, there was a knock on her apartnt door.
"Police! Official business!"
A voice called from outside the door.
Everyone froze.
Iris Yates’s eyes flew wide in disbelief. "Police? Why are the police here?"
Chloe Reed was just as baffled. She got up, went to the door, and opened it.
Two police officers stood in the doorway, their expressions stern.
"We received a public complaint about illegal gambling at this location. We need to co in and search." One of the officers presented his identification and then firmly stepped inside.
Hearing this, Chloe Reed’s headache worsened. "We’re not gambling."
The two officers stepped inside and glanced around. They searched the apartnt high and low, only to find three people eating hot pot.
Forget gambling—there wasn’t even a mahjong table in sight.
They exchanged a glance.
"My mistake, my mistake!"
Just then, Nathaniel Monroe’s voice drifted in from the doorway. "I got it wrong, it was my mistake! Not this address, it’s another one. Officers, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry."
He apologized profusely and then gave them a different address.
The two officers looked displeased. "This ti, you’re coming with us. If this address is wrong too, you’re coming down to the station."
"Yes, of course, I’ll go with you."
Nathaniel Monroe nodded with a broad smile, then turned to Chloe Reed. "Chloe," he said, "I heard you moved, so I brought you a few small gifts. Hope you don’t mind them! I have to go now, but, uh, I’ll co back for dinner so other ti."
With that, he left with the police.
And in that mont, Walker Grant had already strode in as if he owned the place.
"What the fuck..."
Iris Yates couldn’t help but curse under her breath.
Chloe Reed’s expression was frozen. She never imagined they would resort to such tactics just to get inside.
Walker Grant’s chilling gaze swept across the room, finally settling on Preston Vance at the dining table.
A coldness swirled in his eyes. He let out a low chuckle and said, "Chloe, you moved and didn’t tell your husband, but you invited an outsider over. Isn’t that a little inappropriate?"
Chloe Reed’s hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she forced herself to remain calm.
"You’ll really stoop to anything to get your way, won’t you?" Her expression was full of mockery.
But Walker Grant was unfazed. He walked straight to the dining table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
"Mr. Grant."
Preston Vance greeted him with a faint nod.
Walker Grant glanced at the spread on the table, then said, "Mr. Vance canceled a dinner engagent tonight just to co back and dine with my wife. Such moving friendship, truly."
Iris Yates quietly shuffled over to Chloe Reed’s side. Taking in the explosive tension in the dining room, she shrank back a little.
"Chloe, this guy is terrifying."
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