Chapter 47 Following Her

As Eleanor opened the car door, Nora, bubbling with excitement from the passenger side, exclaimed, "That hot pot place is all the rage! Just looking at the pictures makes me starve."

Eleanor laughed at her friend's appetite, but her attention was abruptly arrested.

The dim lighting of the underground garage, coupled with the sprawling expanse, often rendered faces indistinct unless one was close by.

Yet, Eleanor recognized Vincent immediately, dressed in an outfit she herself had worn just days before. At that moment, Vincent slipped into a sapphire blue sports car where a man awaited in the driver's seat. Before the door could close, the man reached over, pulling Vincent into a kiss that seemed to mesh their faces together.

Vincent struggled ineffectually; the man gave her a tongue kiss and sneered, "Your taste is just like I remember. How about another round?" he suggested crudely.

"Get lost!" Vincent pushed him off and slammed the car door with such force that afterward, she fiercely wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
The man's sinister laugh echoed as he fidgeted with a thumb drive in his hand. At the sight, Vincent lunged to snatch it. He wrapped his arms around her waist, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, what's the rush?"

"We agreed - cash for the footage. I've got $50 million right here!" Vincent pulled out a card from her purse but hesitated to hand it over, fearing the man might play her.

The man was in no hurry. "Miss Thompson, you really think I'd give you all the evidence in one go?"

"How much more do you have!" Vincent's anxiety shot through the roof.

"As many times we've 'played,' that's how many you'll find. All sorts and kinds."

Vincent's vision darkened.

The car roared to life, pulling out of the underground garage.

Eleanor's heart pounded.

Nora urged her to get moving, or they'd miss out on hot pot.

Slipping into the driver's seat, Eleanor buckled up, slammed the door, and hit the gas in one fluid motion.

Nora barely managed to say that Eleanor seemed even more anxious than herself, accused of being a glutton moments before.

"Looks like we are skipping hot pot."

"Huh?" Nora, befuddled, watched as Eleanor floored the accelerator and the car zoomed off.

Eleanor's driving skills had improved significantly, and with the rush hour traffic slowing things down, she narrowly kept pace with that supercar.

At a crossroad up ahead, Eleanor dropped Nora off.

The stakes were high tailing Vincent, risks of exposure lingering. Eleanor had scores to settle, Nora, however, was an innocent bystander.

Free from worry, Eleanor now followed Vincent with reckless abandon.

Her heart raced, the car seemed to shrink around her, each breath more desperate than the last.

She couldn't believe Vincent would cheat on Aaron, wasn't she supposed to be in love with him?

When the supercar boldly ran a red light at Crossroad Junction, Eleanor slammed on the brakes, gripping the wheel tight, her heart leaping into her throat.

Thirty-two seconds on the red light countdown. She clenched her jaw, eyes fixated on the direction where the car had disappeared, now out of sight.

Her heart's ticking matched the countdown. Patience wearing thin, the light finally turned green.

She shifted gears and turned right without a second thought.

Past the congested streets, this road was clear. Sparse traffic, en route past forest parks, wetlands, and a newly built upscale neighborhood, it led to a destination far more exclusive - the Hot Spring Resort.

Vincent, meeting an old flame and accustomed to luxury, wouldn't settle for a tryst in the park.

Yes, they were most certainly heading to the Hot Spring Resort.
Dusk had settled into darkness, and streetlights cast their glow into the car as Eleanor drove toward the Hot Spring Resort. Predictably, she spotted the cobalt-blue supercar in the parking lot upon arrival.

She jumped out of her car and headed straight for the entrance, where a security guard stopped her. Eleanor then remembered that the Hot Spring Resort was a members-only establishment, upscale and exclusive—no entrance without a membership card.

Luckily, when the resort opened, the developer had gifted Grayson with a membership card. Grayson, having no use for it, had passed it on to her. She dug through her wallet, handed the card to the guard, and was allowed inside.

It would be suspicious to simply wander in; she couldn’t just ask at the reception where Vincent's room was. That would raise questions, perhaps even alert them to watch her, complicating her mission to find Vincent.

She went through the motions of checking in, securing a room for herself.

During the resort’s initial bidding process, Gaia BioTech Industries had also put in a bid. Back then, the company was a fresh endeavor founded by Colin Harris, not yet a powerhouse, and their bid was declined, edged out by two larger, stronger conglomerates.

She could only remember one of them being Titan Infrastructure Group. The other escaped her memory. It was possibly Quinn Corporation, but she was unsure.

Eleanor felt aimless, like a headless chickedn, searching inside the sprawling resort. Wandering about aimlessly wasn’t going to help.

She bypassed ornamental pavilions and rockeries, heading toward the guestroom area where every room boasted a private hot spring. Doors shut, she realized that finding Vincent before morning would be a small miracle.

As she wracked her brain for a plan, a woman's scream echoed from the lodging area.

Eleanor spun around, following the sound, and indeed found a sliding door ajar—a gap about the width of three fingers—revealing the source of the commotion.

She held her breath for a moment, then recognized a familiar voice.

Peering through the slit where light poured out, she saw on the ground what appeared to be the same outfit Vincent had worn that day.

A shiver raced through Eleanor. She swallowed quietly, scanning her surroundings—no one in sight. She slipped off her high heels, crouched, and carefully pushed the door open.

The room was dimly lit, the overhead lights were off, and only indirect light spilled from behind a folding screen—probably from the direction of the hot spring. To the left was a bedroom, dark and still. Whoever she was looking for wasn't there.
Eleanor's heart raced wildly, pounding against her chest. To say she wasn't nervous would be a boldfaced lie. Her vision blurred in the dim light, making it hard to see, and that sensory uncertainty ushered in an inexplicable fear.

But opportunities like this were rare, and sometimes you had to enter the lion's den to catch the lion.

She had to obtain proof of Vincent's indiscretions. The Quinn family would never accept such a man marrying into their fold.

"Ah..." Vincent's pleasured moan echoed from behind the screen, mingling with the intermittent sound of splashing water. Eleanor felt her heartbeat soar to her throat, her palms sweating as she tightened her grip on her high heels.

Her breath quickened and her heart raced in the darkness. On tiptoe, she skirted around the screen, a curtain conveniently blocking her sight and offering a hideaway at the same time.

Hidden behind the curtain, she peeked out.

Steam rose from the hot spring, its glossy walls shimmering in the dim light. There was Vincent, naked and propped against the wall, with a man aggressively thrusting, clutching her waist.

The stark white of the bodies contrasted against the dark pool walls, accompanied by the sound of water and joyous cries...

A surge of blood rushed to Eleanor's head, but she ignored the provocative scene in front of her. Swiftly, she pulled out her phone and snapped a few photos and shot a short video of the oblivious couple.

This should be enough evidence.

She didn't dare linger. With the evidence in hand, it was time to leave.

But as luck would have it, just as she dreaded an interruption, she stumbled over a low stool, making a loud clatter!

"Who's there?"
Fleeing the Embrace of My Obsessed Husband
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