CHAPTER 245
Rochelle had arranged a meeting with an investor for the evening, hoping to finalize some crucial details. But after waiting in the private room for three hours, there was still no sign of the investor. Her lips curved into a cold, bitter smile.
It was the third time that month an investor had stood her up.
One could be dismissed as bad luck, twice a stretch, but three times? Rochelle knew better than to believe in coincidences. The answer was clear enough—someone was pulling the strings, and she had a pretty good idea who.
Without hesitation, she stood up and strode out of the room.
Her bodyguard, who had been lingering in the shadows, fell into step behind her, maintaining a cautious distance.
“Where’s your boss?” she demanded, her voice sharp.
The bodyguard remained silent, his face expressionless.
Rochelle stopped abruptly, spun around, and fixed him with an icy glare. “Don’t even try playing dumb. You wouldn’t be trailing me 24/7 if you weren’t one of John's most loyal lapdogs.”
The bodyguard averted his eyes, speaking in a flat, almost robotic tone. “The boss is only trying to protect you.”
Rochelle scoffed. “Protect me? Cut the crap.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Where. Is. John? Don’t make me ask again.”
A tense silence followed before the bodyguard finally answered in a low voice.
“He’s in the VIP room.”
Rochelle shoved past him without a second thought and marched toward the VIP area.
As she passed by a fire extinguisher mounted on the wall, she paused, grabbed it, and resumed her stride with renewed purpose.
Her anger had reached its boiling point, and nothing short of John’s blood would cool it down.
The waiter had just exited the VIP room when Rochelle approached, carrying a fire extinguisher and radiating a fierce energy that made him freeze in his tracks. The sight of a striking woman with a fire extinguisher and a murderous expression was enough to make him tremble.
Rochelle barely glanced at him as she moved toward the door, ready to storm in. However, she paused when her eyes caught sight of Xander, calmly setting a glass of juice in front of a woman.
Though Rochelle's encounters with Xander had been limited, she knew enough about him. After all, Xander was a childhood friend of John’s and had once been involved with Arianna.
Xander's demeanour was always distant, the kind that kept people at arm’s length. John, on the other hand, had a different kind of coldness—ruthless and relentless. Seeing Xander in a situation like that seemed entirely out of character for him.
If John or that playboy Zach had been doing the same, it wouldn’t have been surprising, but for Xander, it seemed odd.
Rochelle, though fiery by nature, had never been one to act without thinking. She knew better than to jump to conclusions based on just a glance. Arching an eyebrow, she glanced over at the waiter, who looked like he was about to raise an alarm, and ordered in an icy tone,
“Quietly leave, and don’t say a word.”
The waiter took one look at her and decided against causing trouble. Without another word, he covered his mouth and slipped away.
Setting down the fire extinguisher, Rochelle turned to the bodyguard standing behind her and held out her hand.
“Give me your phone.”
The bodyguard complied immediately, handing it over without a second thought.
Rochelle quickly typed out a brief message and sent it, her mind racing as she processed what she had just seen.
................
Inside the VIP room, John’s phone vibrated, lighting up with a new message. He glanced down, clicked on it, and read the blunt text: [Come outside. I’m at the door.]
Short, direct, and impossible to ignore.
Though the message came from the bodyguard’s phone, he knew immediately who the real sender was.
John pocketed his phone, casually straightened his jacket, and stood up.
Zach, noticing, groaned in protest.
“Seriously? Where are you going? We’ve barely started, and you’re already ditching us? I thought we agreed to drink until we couldn’t stand, in honor of Bunny’s return?”
John responded dryly, “Wife’s orders.”
At the mention of Rochelle, Zach’s face instantly softened. He couldn’t forget the icy yet beautiful woman who had a fierceness that rivalled no other.
The memory of her smashing a wine bottle over his head when he’d tried to intervene in one of her spats with John was still fresh in his mind. The incident left him bandaged for over two weeks, and he had since learned to stay clear of their heated confrontations.
Quickly plastering on a servile smile, Zach waved his hand. “In that case, by all means, go! Be sure to send my regards to the misses.”
John allowed a small smirk, then turned to look at Xander and the woman seated next to him.
“Alright....I’m heading out.”
Xander gave a brief nod in acknowledgement, while the woman, Harmony, smiled and said,
“Let’s catch up soon.”
With that, John exited the room.
Out in the corridor, Rochelle stood waiting. He walked up to her, but before he could say a word, her fist swung swiftly toward his face.
John, ever stoic, didn’t flinch or attempt to dodge. Instead, he let her punch land squarely, accepting the blow without a hint of resistance.
Rochelle still felt annoyed despite landing that punch on John. It was hardly more effective than a light tap, but she had held back from using the fire extinguisher. She wanted him conscious enough to answer her questions.
John, mildly surprised that she had only hit him once, stared at her with dark eyes and finally asked,
"That’s it?"
"Yeah," Rochelle replied, her voice cold.
"I have some questions for you," she continued. "If I like your answers, I’ll let slide whatever sneaky things you’ve been up to lately. If not, you might want to get ready for a lengthy stay in the hospital."
Normally, she wouldn’t have offered a second option—John would be guaranteed a trip to the ER. The fact that she was giving him a chance showed how serious she was. Someone must have made Rochelle a bit more lenient than usual.
John raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“Go ahead, then.”
Rochelle wasted no time.
“Who’s that woman in there?”
Without even pausing to think, John replied,
“Not my concern.”
“I’d prefer it if she *were* your problem.” Rochelle shot him a sharp look.
“Don’t try to dodge the question. You know exactly what I’m asking.”
She wasn’t concerned about whether the woman in the VIP room was involved with John. He could do whatever he wanted, as long as there were no surprise children in the picture—she didn’t care.
But Xander? That was a different story. Arianna and Xander had finally begun to rebuild their relationship, and happiness was within reach for them. Rochelle wasn’t about to let anyone, especially some mystery woman, jeopardize that.
"Tell me who she is!"
John pressed his lips together, his voice steady as he repeated, “Harmony Jackson. She’s a friend.”
“And?” Rochelle pressed, not satisfied.
“That’s all,” John said, cool as ever.
Rochelle couldn’t help but laugh, though there was no humour in it. “You think you can just brush me off with that?”
She stepped closer, narrowing the space between them. Her sharp gaze locked onto his as she enunciated, “You like playing games, don’t you? Fine, I’ll make it clear. What’s the connection between Xander and this Harmony woman?”
John met her eyes without flinching. His answer was just as firm as before. “A friend.”
Rochelle’s eyes flickered with frustration. “Right, because ‘bros’ always cover for each other, don’t they? It’s always the same story—everything’s ‘just friends’ until the truth comes out.”
His expression remained unreadable, giving her nothing to work with.
Rochelle’s patience snapped, and she let out a dark chuckle.
“Okay, then. Looks like you’ve chosen option two. I hope you’re ready for your half-month stay in the hospital because I’ll be happy to send you there myself.”
