Chapter 8: Chapter Eight: Kept Me Waiting

The short man and the gold-toothed man were both taken aback.

Short man: "Who the hell kidnapped Shirley Graham? Are you crazy?! Accusing us of something like that?!"

The gold-toothed man, with a cigarette between his fingers, gestured to stop the short man. Doreen Pulitzer noticed a scar running across his palm, as if his hand had been cut in half by a sharp object and then stitched back together.

A desperado.

"Miss Chen, you can take medicine recklessly, but you can't speak without thinking. We only want money, not lives. If we were really capable of kidnapping, we might as well go all out. You know, the organ trade overseas is quite profitable, plus your family's house, which is worth over two million. Why would we come here and suffer for such a risky and less lucrative option?"

The gold-toothed man's words, though rough, made sense and confirmed that Shirley Graham was indeed not in their hands.

Doreen Pulitzer fell silent for a moment, then pulled out a bank card from her pocket. "Fifty thousand. I'll pay the remaining fifty thousand this month after I see my mother."

The short man grew anxious. "She's already gone! Where are we supposed to find her? We're looking for her too!"

Doreen Pulitzer: "You have your ways. If you really wanted to find someone, it shouldn't be too difficult. At the very least, I need to know where she is and ensure her safety. Otherwise, I won't give you a single cent of the remaining money."

—

After all, this wasn't an official investigation. The resources Judy Green could use were limited, and they only found out that Shirley Graham had taken a high-speed train to Q City three days ago.

Once she left H City, Judy Green was in the dark. Q City was a large city, and Doreen Pulitzer couldn't afford to take time off to search for Shirley Graham in an unfamiliar place. Moreover, Q City might just be a stop on her journey, and no one knew where she had actually gone.

Doreen Pulitzer had no other options and could only hope that the gold-toothed man could provide some clues. The thirty thousand she gave last time was all her savings, and the money she earned over the past two years had all gone to paying off Shirley Graham's debts. This fifty thousand came from the card given by that man.

If she really couldn't find Shirley Graham, and if there were no other sources of income, she didn't know how long she could hold on.

"Ms. Muxi, the owner of Unit 901 in Building 7 says there's a leak in the water pipe and specifically asked for you to check it out."

Just as she entered the office, Doreen Pulitzer paused in the middle of taking off her coat.

Hilary Zacharias reminded her, "It's that big shot, the second young master of the Han family, from the other day."

"Mm, I know."

Doreen Pulitzer zipped up her coat again, her frozen fingers fumbling several times before finally managing to pull the zipper closed.

Hilary Zacharias asked, "We use top international brands for our materials in No. 1 Courtyard. How could the water pipe leak just two days after he moved in?"

Doreen Pulitzer had already turned and walked out.

Hilary Zacharias hurried after her, "Hey, Ms. Muxi, you should call the repairman..."

Before she could finish, Doreen Pulitzer's figure had already disappeared into the dimly lit snow.

Building 7 was a large duplex, with each unit occupying a floor. The first floor had a reception area, staffed by exceptionally attractive front desk attendants who worked in shifts, available 24/7.

This was truly royal-level service—exclusive to the wealthy.

The front desk attendant saw Doreen Pulitzer and stood up, smiling. "Ms. Muxi, what brings you here so late?"

Despite her cold demeanor, her excellent work performance made her popular.

"No, just checking in."

"You’re so responsible."

As they spoke, Doreen Pulitzer stepped into the elevator.

Responsible...

As the floor numbers rose, so did her heart.

When she reached out to ring the doorbell, she already anticipated what was about to happen.

But as soon as the door opened a crack, a well-defined arm pulled her inside. He didn't even let her see the so-called leaking pipe; instead, he pinned her against the entryway cabinet, his deep, magnetic voice whispering in her ear, intoxicating her senses.

"You kept me waiting..."

By the light of the living room's floor lamp, Doreen Pulitzer saw the man in a black silk robe, its front wide open, revealing his straight collarbones. Her eyes traveled down to his chiseled abs, and further down...

"What do you want to see?"

He hooked her chin with his finger, his warm lips barely touching hers. His other hand deftly removed her down jacket, his palm slowly sliding down.

Doreen Pulitzer felt her legs weaken, and she placed her hands on his shoulders. "No..."

The man chuckled, "The dress fits you well. I like it..."

Then, Doreen Pulitzer felt the world spinning as the man carried her upstairs. The moon, hanging high in the night sky, seemed to fall to her shoe tips, as if it were underfoot.