She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 685: Meeting Again as Strangers

Yvonne was chatting iwith a handsome man dressed in black. She wore a black women's suit with a white shirt, her figure slim. She paired it with a black pencil skirt, wrapped her long and slender legs with flesh-colored stockings, and wore a pair of matte black high-heeled leather shoes. She exuded elegance and intellectuality.

Her long hair was pinned up with a metallic butterfly clip at the back of her head, and two strands of round pearl tassels hung down from the hairline. Against her lightly powdered cheeks, it was no wonder she was called the "Goddess of Diplomacy" even in her fifties.

It can be imagined how stunning she must have been when she was young.

Cheyenne, amazed, gave a look of astonishment and secretly thought, 'Grandfather tries to avoid such a beautiful woman. He really doesn't know how fortunate he is!'

Just as she was lost in thought, Yvonne extended her hand towards her and gestured for her to come.

"Cheyenne, come."

"This is Tucker Patel, the chairman of the Patel Group. He is also a physician and has a deep understanding of traditional medicine."

Upon hearing the voice, Cheyenne walked up, her footsteps light, and stood in front of the middle-aged man. She looked at him confidently, exhibiting a pure and innocent smile, and extended her right hand. "Hello, Mr. Patel. Please take care of me."

"Miss Lawrence, you're too polite. Your grandfather and I are old friends. We even collaborated in the past. Just call me Uncle."

Cheyenne had no idea that her grandfather had friends in Jostrana. She had always thought he was just someone who enjoyed roaming the world.

"Uncle."

After a simple handshake, representatives from Chulae gradually took their seats.

Cheyenne chose a spot in the middle, just to the left of Yvonne, directly across from the mysterious old man.

a piercing gaze had been fixated on her since she entered the room, as if wanting to see

warrior suit from Jostrana, and unlike the man just now, he had not only a short knife at his waist, but also a flute made

eyes, Cheyenne saw a different world, a world where

figure. As she walked, her hand idly fiddled with her school uniform pocket,

response, the black figure didn't turn around, his voice coldly rejecting her coquetry, conveying indifference and a hint of disdain in his

"Walk by yourself!"

anymore, and my feet

he would stop and wait

unassuming figure took a couple of steps

my... my feet really

the man's strides came to

several seconds. Not seeing the girl catch up, he began

back of her foot. Bright

heels were a woman's lethal weapon

expected that new shoes always caused blisters. Just a few steps out, the delicate skin on her ankles had been chafed, bleeding profusely. Every step felt like a mermaid walking on razor blades,

she continued to slowly walk in his direction, her pace as sluggish as a

defeated, a massive

his voice filled with displeasure. "If you can't wear high heels, why not choose comfortable flat shoes? It's

for you," the girl grumbled

drop, her body suddenly soared,

"Ah..."

"Don't move!"

gave her a warning glance, lifting her horizontally

her bright