Chapter 7

Chasing after her, Anthony went to stand in front of her path, and it effectively blocked her. He took out the small box once more.

“Miss Jordan, please consider,” he asserted, languid yet evident with determination.

Charmine was speechless. Must she accept his proposal? Who placed such a ridiculous mandate?

She gently plucked out the ring from its box. Needless to say, it was a beautiful heart-shaped diamond ring perfectly cut, and the exquisite workmanship was evident with the ring itself. It was one of the best cuts in the world.

Yet…

With a faint smile on her red lips, she tossed the ring away. Just like that, a perfectly cut diamond ring was thrown away like it was rubbish.

Anthony and his assistant were stunned.

The assistant felt like everything was a blur. Charmine literally rejected his boss and threw the diamond ring into the bin!

Unperturbed, Charmine nonchalantly spoke, “I am thankful that Mr Bailey had saved me and nursed me back to health, but I won’t marry you. Marriage isn’t a game, and a victim doesn’t have to marry the rapist. You’re too naive.”

With that, Charmine left.

The corners of Anthony’s lips quivered in displeasure. Was she implying he was a rapist? Was she genuinely comparing him to one? What deplorable attitude! This woman was being ludicrous. Anthony scoffed. Would she still reject him if he sucked her all over? He was quite intrigued to find out.

Nonetheless, the most important thing was that she survived the fall from the hill.

“Luke, send her the evidence we’ve found.”

“Ah?” Luke, the man addressed by Anthony, was confused.

What was going on? Charmine was so rude to him, but not only was he not angry, he even wanted to send those evidence to her? What happened to his calculative and remorseless boss?

“Forget it, I’ll do it myself.” Since Luke did not react, Anthony walked to his office and turned on his laptop.

...

By this time, Charmine had reached her villa. Once she got changed into her own clothes, she threw the white shirt into the bin. It was not long, however, until the ringing of her phone broke the silence.

Picking up the phone, she noted the person on the other line panting. “Oh my lady, are you alright?” spoke the person at the other end, voice evidently worried and panicked. “Why did you return home? Wasn’t it nice back here? Also, why didn’t you let Kay and his team protect you? Do you know that my heart nearly combusted when I heard about your accident?! That evil woman actually paid for the murderers... I’ll make her pay for it now!”

Nobody knew this, but Charmine had a fair share of accomplishments she had gotten on her own in the past five years. These, in turn, made everyone look up to her, paying attention to her every move. She never sought aid of any kind, yet many people wanted to help her out.

Charmine cradled her phone between her shoulder and neck. “Don’t bother. Pass this message on: I’m taking care of some personal stuff back here at home, so leave me alone.”

“W—What? Are you sure?” the man asked worriedly.

Charmine scoffed. “If I didn’t believe I could settle this myself, I wouldn’t have returned.”

She ended the call.

Simon Gray—who was on the other end of the call—sighed. Without much to go around, he could only relay Charmine’s message.

As Charmine logged into her mailbox, an unread email was brought to her attention. Once she clicked on the unread email, she was met with screenshots of Tiffany’s conversation with the driver, with details of Tiffany’s plan and order for Charmine’s murder. There was also a record of the transaction from Tiffany’s account to the driver’s as well as video footage of the accident. Everything she was seeing would be enough to convict Tiffany.

Who did this? Who could have gathered all these in such a short time and, what more, sent them to her for free?

Charmine had the impression that this could be the work of a party looking forward to working with her, trying to earn a favor from her. When she searched for the sender’s name, however...

Anthony Bailey?

Why on earth would this man go through such lengths to help her, even after she rejected him in a rather ridiculous manner? Indeed, he did deserve to be in such fame and wealth with such generous heart and capability.

No matter; Charmine found no reason to reject help offered without strings attached. As she saved the screenshots, a sliver of mischief glimmered in her cunning dark eyes.

...

At the same time, inside a lavishly decorated bedroom in the Jordan family’s mansion...

Tiffany was sitting in front of her piano as she toyed with a doll, a smug smile on her face as she did. There was no way Charmine could have survived that high drop. At the very least, she would be incapacitated or disfigured. Once admitted to the hospital, she would have ways to kill Charmine and take the 15% share from her.

With her silky pale hand, Tiffany sharply ripped off the doll’s head.

Ding!

A notification showed on her phone.

Who would message her private phone at this hour? She clicked open the anonymous email.

Her face rapidly morphed into one of complete, unadulterated horror.

The email contained her conversations with the driver.

How…? How could this have happened? She contacted the driver with an anonymous sim and, for extra precautions, even paid with her overseas account. How could this plan have fallen apart so terribly?

Though her face was blatantly horror-stricken, she fumbled to text as though unfazed.

[Who are you? What do you want? How much? Give me a number.]

[I don’t want your money. You have two options. The first is to host a press conference and apologize to your sister in public. Option two: Send me a nude. If you can’t make up your mind in ten minutes, these screenshots will go public.]

Nude? Nude? Was this person out of their mind?!

Tiffany pictured it with an angered and distorted face.

Who could this be?

She quickly replied, [Absolutely not. Give me a number, I’ll pay you any amount you desire. Just so you know, I’m the heiress of the Jordan family, so you can’t afford to mess with me. If you choose to cooperate with me, however, I’ll reward you generously.]

Undaunted, the person merely replied, [You have nine more minutes to decide.]

Tiffany gritted her teeth; she had no choice.