Chapter 244 He was Just Angry
With Emerson gone, the spacious living room was now empty with Winona alone.
She looked around and Rebecca mentioned that there were five cameras she could detect here, potentially some unseen ones as well.
Who were they monitoring? Her?
When she arrived earlier, this mansion only housed Emerson and the enigmatic Mr. Nameless, but Emerson just mentioned that the gentleman had departed. So, who was the person upstairs?
Winona felt her heart beating a bit fast, especially in this quiet space where every sound seemed to echo in her ears.
She turned and headed upstairs.
With the carpet and the disposable slippers from the hotel she was wearing, she made almost no sound even without trying to step lightly.
The study was located on the second floor, yet no sign of Emerson was seen in the second-floor corridor. Faint sounds were heard, indistinct and distant, seemingly emanating from the third floor.
Winona's hand rested on the stair railing, the cold temperature causing her to curl her fingers slightly.
Just as she climbed three steps, a sudden alarm sounded from the ceiling.
Already on edge, the sudden, jarring sound in the midst of such silence almost caused her to faint.
Winona stood still, wordless.
The next moment, Emerson appeared at the stairwell, looking at her with a dark expression. "Who allowed you to come upstairs? Don't you understand the basic courtesy when you're in someone else's home? Is it because you don't..."
His next words were interrupted by a light, indistinct cough, and the previously fierce Emerson, who seemed ready to devour her, suddenly fell silent as a chicken with its neck squeezed.
Winona, with an innocent expression devoid of any intention to pry, felt embarrassed and ashamed after being caught. "Sorry, I thought something had fallen due to the wind. So, I came up to see if there was any help needed."
She turned and went back downstairs to the study.
Unlike the last time she was here, the curtains in the study were drawn wide open, as were the windows, allowing more light to flood in. Being on the second floor, she felt it brighter than the first floor.
It was the season of blooming flowers, and the fragrance wafted in through the half-open window, carrying a faint, pleasant scent.
Winona strolled to the window, facing the backyard from the study. In this season, the roses bloomed vibrantly, while the adjacent pergola was entwined with honeysuckle, not yet in full bloom, just a lush expanse of verdant foliage.
These were the flowers her mother loved.
At five in the afternoon, Winona concluded her tasks at hand, lifting her gaze to the window. The sky had already begun to dim.
She packed up and went downstairs. Though Winona was uncertain as to why Emerson harbored such animosity towards her, in order to evade confrontation and prevent further deterioration of their relationship, as well as to better ascertain the circumstances, she ultimately continued her work in the study.
Surveillance pervaded common areas like the living room, let alone the study. Winona, despite her desire to search, forcefully suppressed it.
It would take more time.
Just as she descended the stairs, Emerson emerged from the kitchen. If Winona's gaze hadn't landed on that spot, she would have been startled.
Emerson was probably still angry about her intrusion, his brows furrowed. "The gentleman urgently needed that painting. Why did you leave so early?"
Winona replied, "Then please tell your gentleman that if he allows me to take the painting back, I can ensure a quicker exchange, or he can choose a more normal place."
She thought of the flowers in the backyard and swallowed her words.
What if this place was really related to her mother?
At her words, Emerson's face twisted in a grimace as if he had many things to say but ultimately held back, glaring at her before silently retreating to the kitchen.
As Winona drove halfway, the sky darkened. A scene from a TV show she had watched unexpectedly popped into her mind, and she kept her eyes fixed on the road, afraid of encountering something unexpected.
Austin's words at this moment were truly making things worse. She immediately wanted to call the faceless man to resign. This job was killing her.
However, before she could make the call, her phone rang.
Winona glanced at it, she saw an unfamiliar number. Answering, she pressed the speakerphone button. "Hello."
"Winona, do you think you've won?" Came the altered tone of a woman through the receiver, sharp and slightly grating.
The voice sounded somewhat familiar, yet the emotions of the speaker were too intense, rendering each of the dozen words devoid of any discernible intonation.
She was puzzled. "Miss, who are you?"
The other party might have been provoked by her and remained silent for a while. "Winona, you are already the winner now. Why pretend to be ignorant to humiliate me?"
As soon as the word 'humiliate' came out, Winona recognized the identity of the other party.
She was Clark, who thought highly of herself.
For there existed no one as self-righteousness as her, who believed that everything was about her, and deemed any failure to do so as a slight, a humiliation.
"Miss Clark, watch your words, or just hang up."
"Winona, don't be smug. Zachary is pursuing you again just because he's mad at me and thinks I've wronged him. You two won't have a future. When he gets tired of your dullness, he'll fall for another woman."
Winona was speechless.
She must be insane!
After uttering these words, Fiona promptly ended the call, providing no room for further elaboration.
As Winona passed a traffic light, she briefly glanced at Facebook, finally discovering what madness Fiona was up to.
Each headline highlighted in red, brimming with sensational content..
Fiona had been hailed as the most talented dancer in nearly three decades, yet this title had strangely come from her liaisons with men!
Goodness, Fiona had resorted to seducing married men in pursuit of the lead dance position!
Not only were her conversations and hotel stay records exposed in the news, but also intimate photos and videos with these individuals.
As the green light illuminated, Winona switched off her phone and started the car.
She picked up some food downstairs to take home. As soon as she stepped out of the elevator on her floor, she saw Zachary standing there.
The man gazed at the box of food in her hand, furrowing his brow. "Is this even meant for human consumption?"
"This is indeed for humans, not for gods." Winona automatically categorizing him as trouble. "So, esteemed Mr. Bailey, please come in, lest the pristine floors at my doorstep be tarnished by your lofty, untainted feet."
She unlocked the door with a fingerprint scanner, Zachary grabbing her arm, hesitating for a moment. "I need to talk to you."
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
