Chapter 487 Serves You Right for Not Recognizing Your Own Wife!

Selena cast a fleeting glance at the incoming message, her gaze then drifting to the mountainous pile of documents on her desk, all awaiting her attention.

She responded to the message with a quick text.

Selena: [I might be a bit late]

Raymond: [Okay.]

Having sent her response, Selena set her phone aside, immersing herself in the paperwork with a newfound determination.

When she finally emerged from the sea of documents, she glanced out the window to find the sky darkening. She was taken aback by the late hour. Swiftly, she picked up her phone again. Four hours had slipped by since her last exchange with Raymond.

A small crease of worry formed on her forehead. Surely, Raymond wasn't still waiting for her?

Selena: [Mr. Montague, where are you at?]

Raymond: [The company]

Inside the office, the air was thick with tension. Earlier in the evening, the executives had reported to Raymond, immediately sensing his foul mood.

As one of them exited the office, he seemed almost shaky, hastily warning a colleague about to enter, "The boss is in a bad mood, tread lightly."

As a result, those who had planned to report that night lost their nerve and dared not enter the office.

whole hours, was this the "a bit late" she was

time. When had he ever waited this long

ebbed slightly, and he

then, another message

gotten a bit late, how about I see Mr. Montague tomorrow

this, Raymond's anger flared up

Raymond: [Come now.]

words, he

Raymond: [As you wish.]

he stood up, leaving

But Raymond was the type of man whose anger made

was then that Alex called, asking if Raymond had returned to town and if he

was almost a given that Alex's

adorned only with a watch, his long fingers gripping the steering wheel firmly. His eyes held the depth of the night, his entire demeanor radiating a calm

knock on his window. Frowning, he rolled it down to find Caterlington in a dark red suit, who had just tossed

a cool glance and then rolled

pressed on the gas. However,

face hardened as he floored

look on Raymond's face earlier that evening. But he hadn't anticipated Raymond's car barreling towards him, nearly causing a collision. Had Caterlington not swerved

cursed, his competitive spirit now fully ignited, as he saw Raymond's car speed ahead and

a

trucks aplenty, danger is never

his sports car, a beast he'd

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