Chapter 277

We were on the cusp of securing that office space, just waiting for the investment from RF to come through.

Mark seemed taken aback when he heard I’d managed to rent an office despite the Myers family’s decree banning me from doing so in RiverCity. “You found one?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Seems like the landlord’s based overseas. Probably doesn’t care much about the Myers family. After all, out of sight, out of mind.”

“That’s a relief.”

Mark carefully dabbed antiseptic on my wounds, his voice full of worry, “This must hurt, right?”

“It’s bearable.”

I gritted through the pain, reminding myself over and over: No more being soft–hearted from now on.

This world has always been about the survival of the fittest, no good deed goes unpunished..

The next morning, Christine showed up at my place bright and early.

She burst through the door, surprised to find me already up. “Weren’t you injured? Why not rest a bit more?”

I set aside the fashion magazine, I was flipping through. “Did Mark tell you?”

“Yeah, he texted me last night.”

Christine dumped a bunch of groceries on the dining table, annoyed with herself, “Sorry, I went out drinking last night and only saw the message this morning.”

I’m not in

be the judge

head to toe, her eyes reddening with anger, “And you call this ‘not in bad shape‘? What would you consider serious, then? Who the hell did this?”

wrist, still sore, and ruffled her hair, “Chris, she’s not leaving RiverCity anytime soon. Our journey in setting up

even hear the rest of my words, ready to

her, “What good will that do? Beat her up and then what? Either

then?! Just let

ready to throw down, “I’ll go down with her,

won’t be in

with her the promise I’d wrung out

did she calm down a bit, looking at

assured her, then asked, “Did you hear

was afraid of dragging her

give up on Janedream because of

way.”

pondered for a moment,

way, we’d just have to

I had my design skills. We were almost ready to get the company off the ground, just waiting on RF’s funding to

Christine let go of her plan

nap, Christine looked even more troubled than when she had

clumsily tried to hide her tablet, “Oh,

me see.” I approached, reaching

the age of the internet. Reluctantly, she unlocked

1/2

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