Chapter 82

“Kevin, hit the gas! Drive Mrs. Ferguson home,” he tossed the words over his shoulder before slamming the car door shut.

Kevin didn’t hesitate, sliding into the driver’s seat, “My apologies, Mrs. Ferguson.”

With a click, the doors locked.

All I could do was watch helplessly as Bryant walked away, slipping into his bodyguard’s sleek car.

The engines roared to life, and as the traffic light flicked colors, our cars veered off in completely different directions.

Just like Bryant and 1, perhaps never meant to walk the same path.

I slumped into the seat, drained and disheveled, my mind a whirlwind of chaos.

Why bother?

I’ve given him and Margaret

Bryant, what do you really want?

, asking for nothing in return. Isn’t that enough

Kevin drove on, stealing glances at me, and ventured cautiously, “You know, Mrs. Ferguson, there’s no need to go to war with Mr. Ferguson. After all, you are Mrs. Ferguson. Margaret shouldn’t weigh so heavily on your mind.”

“Kevin.”

cold air rush in, and pursed my lips, “Do you also think that having the title of Mrs. Ferguson should be enough

Ferguson, please don’t get me wrong. It’s just that Mr. Ferguson tends to respond better to a

right-hand man; it’s

not looking to fight with him. Kevin, you might not understand, but being Mrs. Ferguson in name

his wife – not

want Mr.

stared out at the bustling streets,

hasn’t Mr. Ferguson’s

“What did you say?”

noise outside muffled

of

I was puzzled.

I didn’t

Gary’s wing and working alongside Bryant for years,

out of him would be an uphill

ensuring I was safely inside,

door behind

shambles was one thing, but now, even coming home felt like

surveillance.

myself a hearty breakfast, filling up before

common knowledge within the company,

I passed the

envy, jealousy… all kinds of stares

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