Chapter139 The Broken Phone
"I do," Winona confirmed succinctly.
A slow smile spread across Zachary Bailey's lips, his tone light and teasing. "So you don't want me probing, don't want to be entangled with me, or you simply have no intention to pursue the matter?"
Glancing at Carlos, who was visibly on edge, Winona replied, "I've decided not to pursue it."
Zachary chuckled, with a sarcastic snort. "You really don't belong in New York's cutthroat social scene."
"Oh?"
"In this world, survival isn't easy for the likes of you."
Winona fell silent.
Typical Zachary, concerned yet utterly incapable of saying something pleasant!
Click. The line went dead. Winona turned to Carlos with a cold look. "Satisfied? Now, give me my phone."
Carlos, feeling an unaccustomed twinge of guilt for his bias in the matter, handed the phone to Winona, his eyes unavoidably drawn to the hickey on her neck.
As a man, he knew the fervor required to leave marks so intense and prominent—it screamed of a man passionately claiming his love.
Rumors of divorce had circulated, but the bodyguard stationed outside and the deep marks told a different story.
Carlos felt a spark of hope. "Winona, you and Zachary..."
Before he could finish, Layla, with deliberate intent and lightning speed, snatched the phone from his hand and smashed it to the ground, not content until she had stomped on it for good measure.
Despite Winona's quick attempt to intervene, she couldn't prevent the phone's demise.
The bodyguard outside, no matter how well-trained, couldn't get there in time to help.
"Layla..."
Winona Sullivan slapped her hard, sending the other woman sprawling to the ground, the force of it making her own throbbing headache pulse even more viciously. Towering over the crumpled figure, Winona sneered, "So you have a death wish? I can assist with that."
Carlos interjected, reaching out to restrain her. "Winona, Layla's just a kid who doesn't know better, and I apologize on her behalf. She's still your sister. Cut her some slack this time, will you?"
Cradling her swollen cheek, Layla spat out, "Winona Sullivan, you're only so bold because you’ve got Zachary Bailey watching your back. Without him, what are you? Nothing but a nobody... Your mom died early, and the company's gone..."
Winona yanked her arm away from Carlos and silenced Layla with another slap, cutting off her venomous diatribe.
"Has nobody taught you any manners, Layla? I guess I'll give you a free lesson on what it means to have class."
Layla screamed, a string of slaps rendering her voice into a shrill wail: "Winona Sullivan, how dare you hit me! I'll kill you! You and your dead mother can go to hell!"
She charged at Winona like a madwoman, but Winona stood firm, her gaze icy.
Feeling the chill of Winona's glare, Layla's skin crawled with a wave of goosebumps. For a moment, she believed Winona truly intended to kill her—right here in New York City, of all mad places.
Her attack faltered, and before she knew it, someone was choking her from behind, the pressure was so intense she almost vomited, staring at the bodyguard's indifferent face. "Why are you choking me? She's the one who hit first."
"Our job is to protect Winona, not let her be harmed," the bodyguard stated matter-of-factly, implying that Winona could hit Layla, but not the other way around.
Layla was speechless.
Then, turning to Winona, he added, "For rough stuff like this, you can always count on us. Hitting people can hurt your hands."
Again, silence from Layla.
Winona's hand was indeed sore, her palm stinging: "Take her to the police station. It was she who sent those men after me last night."
Panic overtook Layla at the mention of the police. "Winona Sullivan, you promised you would drop last night’s incident. You can't go back on your word."
"The deal was off the moment you handed me a dud." Winona bent down, picking up the smashed phone that Layla had stepped on. Its screen was dead, and pressing the buttons did nothing.
Layla and Carlos were being dragged away by their bodyguards when Layla's shrill curses sliced through the hallway, "Winona Sullivan, you bitch... sob..." Her voice abruptly cut off—probably because the bodyguards had had enough and gagged her.
Winona Sullivan changed into a fresh outfit, popped a pill for her throbbing headache, and dumped her severely damaged phone into her purse before heading out. That old phone, now nothing more than a piece of junk, was something she couldn't risk handing over to just any repair shop, fearing the data might be wiped clean. She decided to show it to Austin—maybe someone could either fix it or at least salvage the data. Military-grade hackers are a whole other breed compared to your average street tech.
Glancing at the bodyguard following her, Winona Sullivan remarked, "It's daylight; you guys don't need to shadow me."
She was heading to see Austin, and she knew if Zachary Bailey got wind of it, he'd lose it. She wasn't willing to risk it.
The bodyguard insisted, "Winona, Mr. Bailey instructed us to ensure your safety."
"Is it protection or surveillance?"
"Mr. Bailey didn't say surveillance."
Curling her lips into a smirk, Winona Sullivan said, "If that's the case, then hand over your cell phones to me."
The remaining two bodyguards exchanged uneasy glances. "Winona, this is—"
"I don't keep disobedient people around me. If you can't follow orders, then Mr. Bailey can find someone who will."
The bodyguards reluctantly gave up their phones, knowing all too well that if Winona complained to Mr. Bailey, regardless of whose fault it was, they wouldn't get off lightly.
To prevent any chance of them tipping off Zachary Bailey, Winona Sullivan decided to ride in the same car with them.
The meetup with Austin was at a coffee shop he had chosen near his home. Only when Winona Sullivan arrived did she realize it was the sort of place frequented mainly by couples, from its décor to its intimate ambiance.
The booth seating was for two, snugly arranged together, compounded by the lighting and overall romantic vibe, it screamed 'date spot.'
The usually stoic bodyguards were now wide-eyed, as one alarming thought crossed their minds: Trouble!
Austin was already there and upon spotting Winona Sullivan, he draped an arm around her shoulder, steering her toward the booth.
"Here you finally are, asking me out, and you bring company?"
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