Chapter131 Bullying
There are questions where every answer feels like a trap.
Thankfully, Zachary Bailey was beyond the age to fret over such matters. Noticing Winona Sullivan's reticence to discuss the topic, he didn't press any further.
He shut the car door, rounded the hood, and settled into the driver's seat.
A palpable tension hung in the air. The man trained his gaze straight ahead, his face stoic, a 'keep out' sign to any interloper. Winona, picking up on the cue, clammed up as well, holding back any further remarks that might bait him.
She had just enjoyed a lemon water at Crest Manor and now, feeling a bit parched, fetched a bottle of mineral water from the compartment. As she went to unscrew the cap, she noticed Zachary's eyes flicker toward her.
Pausing, she lifted the bottle, "Want some?"
Zach's laugh was cryptic.
Rolling her eyes at his ambiguity, she twisted the cap and brought the bottle to her lips. Still, his piercing look was hard to ignore.
Handing over the water, she offered, "Here."
He dodged the gesture, "Why play nice now, if you already doubt my bedroom skills?"
Winona yielded a resigned shrug, but could understand why—being the Bailey family's sole heir, surrounded by ulterior motives from birth.
She put him out of mind and took a hearty sip, the frigid water sending shivers straight down her spine.
"Yeah, I'm the fool—a noob doesn't deserve sympathy, so let's just call it quits," she quipped, voice icy.
Zachary was speechless.
Once he'd parked the car at her apartment, Winona bolted out, her pace brisk as if fleeing a predator.
The winter night lay quiet, save for the howling wind rustling through the leaves, cloaking the dim light in even deeper shadow.
The usual security guards were present and a few folks hurried by, each hurrying to the warmth of their destinations.
Winona, facing the biting wind, bundled her coat tighter around her and buried her chin into her scarf.
Suddenly, the quiet was pierced by a mix of footsteps. She looked up to see a group of men, spewing expletives—their demeanor anything but friendly.
With plenty of room to spare, Winona stayed to the right, the group to the left. Their paths weren't meant to cross, but as the gap closed, they appeared to be deliberately veering towards her...
She looked up, her gaze meeting that of one of the men who flashed a sneer in her direction.
She didn't recognize the man, but his look bore a hostility that sent a shiver down her spine without the slightest touch of cold.
Winona Sullivan turned her head toward the main entrance. Because of the chill in the air, there weren't many security guards around...
Meanwhile, Zachary Bailey had just finished a cigarette, waiting for the smell to dissipate in the car before starting the engine to leave.
While checking the right-side rearview mirror, a glint of light from the passenger seat caught his eye.
He focused and saw a metal trinket wedged between the seat and the console - something Winona Sullivan must have dropped or snagged in her haste.
Picking it up, Zachary found that the chain was indeed broken, its link detached.
He frowned, toying with the ornament between his fingers for a moment before he finally got out of the car and walked into the apartment complex.
On his way, he passed a rowdy group of youths, their flirting comments cooling his expression by several shades.
Not far on, he spotted Winona Sullivan standing by the roadside.
He approached with a furrowed brow, "What's up?"
Startled, she turned to see it was him and her tensed body slowly relaxed. Shaking her head, she muttered, "It's nothing."
Her gaze involuntarily followed the retreating group...
She had braced for their malice to turn into action; after all, deliberately approaching her on such a wide street was anything but normal.
Yet, they had merely passed by, their reek of booze still lingering in the air.
Zachary's gaze turned cold as it followed hers to the silhouettes of the group, "What? Did they bother you?"
"No," Winona said, still shaking her head, then frowned, "Why did you follow me?"
Detecting the irritation in her voice, his eyes darkened and he tossed the trinket to her, "Keep an eye on your things. Next time, I might just throw it out."
Catching it, she realized it was the bauble from her bag, something she had bought on a whim - nothing valuable.
"Just throw it out, then," she shrugged nonchalantly, tossing the item into a nearby trash can. "It wasn't expensive, and it's broken now anyway."
Zachary watched her actions with a scoff and then turned to leave without a word.
As he passed the security booth at the entrance, he asked, "Those folks who just left, do they live here?"
The group had been too conspicuous for the security to need any reminding of who Zachary was asking about.
"No, they were here looking for someone—it was their first time here."
Zachary Bailey's brows remained furrowed, his posture showing no sign of easing.
The security guard, uneasy at his demeanor, hastened to reassure him. "Mr. Bailey, our building’s security is top-notch. Anyone who comes to visit has to be confirmed by the tenant, and we log every visitor."
"Tenants can't be criminals? You think a log in a book will stop someone from committing a crime?"
“Those guys didn't look like the good sort, sure, their language a bit rough around the edges, but how did we jump to the assumption they’d commit violence?”
Of course, the guard didn't dare to voice this doubt to Zachary Bailey’s face.
"Our surveillance is manned 24/7. We've equipped all areas, except inside the private dwellings, with cameras—ensuring there are no blind spots in the entire complex."
Zachary scanned him with a cold gaze. "Even if you did spot someone committing a crime on camera, by the time you got there from here, the victim would be long gone, right?"
The guard swallowed, at a loss for words.
In a complex like this, not everyone's a villa owner with a private entrance. Surely, we can't just apprehend people because they dress a little differently?
We're just security guards, after all.
But Zachary Bailey didn’t seem to think there was anything amiss with his line of questioning. He continued to stare at the guard, who now felt a prickling on his scalp and a nascent cold sweat, began to stammer, "Maybe...maybe we could increase patrols? Set up a rotation to keep an eye on each floor?"
Finally, after a long silence, Zachary nodded slightly.
The guard felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Once Zachary left, he exhaled a long breath...
God, that was terrifying!
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