Rachel Foster waited patiently at the Yilin Club. At seven in the morning, Kingsly Scott's silver-gray Bentley pulled in. Her heart pounded as she approached the car.
Kingsly stepped out of the car, but beside him was not a graceful beauty, but Mr. Grant from Pinnacle Properties. It seemed he was here for business today.
"Miss Foster, here to play golf?" Mr. Grant greeted her politely, a taunting undertone in his voice.
Rachel nodded, her gaze fixed on Kingsly. "Yes, indeed." Mr. Grant chuckled. "You seem in good spirits. I thought you might be overwhelmed with Mr. Reed's situation."
Rachel maintained her composure, smiling gently. "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Grant. As long as one is upright and honest, like yourself, heaven will surely be kind. Once Jasper is out, I'll make sure he learns well from you."
Her response was clever, subtly criticizing Mr. Grant while projecting calmness. Mr. Grant felt slighted but couldn't show anger in front of Kingsly.
Kingsly laughed, amused by Rachel's wit. "Mr. Scott, you commented on my golf skills yesterday. Would you be willing to play a round with me?" Rachel asked, her smile genuine.
Before Kingsly could respond, Mr. Grant interjected. "I'm afraid not, Miss Foster. Mr. Scott is busy today; we're discussing the second phase of the 'Westwood Heights' project."
Rachel's gaze remained steady on Kingsly. "Since Mr. Scott is dressed for golf, I'm sure he's prepared to enjoy both leisure and business. I only need a few minutes of his time... Or is Mr. Grant afraid Mr. Scott might lose to me?"
Mr. Grant was left speechless, trapped in Rachel's clever challenge.
Kingsly, aware of her intentions, was intrigued. "It seems I must play a few rounds with Miss Foster. I wouldn't want to be seen as a coward in front of a woman."
Mr. Grant laughed lightly, conceding.
Rachel breathed a sigh of relief.
On the green, caddies prepared their clubs. Rachel wasn't there for golf. She lowered her voice. "Mr. Scott, I believe you know I'm not here to play. I hope we can talk again."
Kingsly smiled. "The way you handled Mr. Grant just now, you didn't seem like someone who would be so humble."
Rachel looked into Kingsly's amused yet handsome eyes. "I know you're an excellent businessman, and you wouldn't engage in a losing deal. So, if you're willing to help me, I won't let you lose."
"Oh?" Kingsly raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
A faint blush spread across Rachel's face. She took a deep breath, her gaze steady on his dark, fathomless eyes. "I'll offer myself to you."
Kingsly Scott studied her flushed cheeks, a faint smile spreading across his handsome face. His eyes, filled with amusement and genuine interest, lingered on her nervous expression. Finally, he spoke in a light, almost dismissive voice, "From what I see, Miss Foster, your assets aren't quite enough."Her tired and unadorned face indeed lacked any noticeable allure.
Rachel wanted to retreat, but the thought of Jasper held her steady against her current embarrassment. She lifted her head, looking calmly at Kingsly. "I may not compare to Natalie Lewis in appearance, but my charm definitely surpasses hers."
"Oh?" Kingsly's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her, his lips curling slightly.
She met his gaze steadily. "I believe, Mr. Scott, you're not someone who judges solely by appearance."
Kingsly chuckled, his gaze intense for a few seconds. Suddenly, he raised his hand, gently lifting her chin to tilt her head slightly towards him.
Rachel was startled, her heart leaping into her throat. She felt like a small creature caught in a trap, pleading with fearful eyes yet unable to escape.
His eyes narrowed, deep and inscrutable, making it impossible to discern his thoughts.
She dared not look into his eyes, focusing on his clean hands. His fingers were well-defined, yet cold as ice, inexplicably frightening.
He suddenly burst into laughter, his fingers slowly releasing her.
Her body instinctively stepped back, turning her face away in shame.
"What, are you shy?" he teased, his previous cold demeanor replaced by his usual gentlemanly elegance.
Her face flushed crimson as she lowered her head, remaining silent.
He laughed and turned to walk away.
Thinking he was leaving, she quickly followed him.
Unexpectedly, he was merely fetching a golf club for her. As he turned, she bumped into his chest.
"Ugh..."
She cried out in pain, feeling as though her nose might fall off—why was his chest so hard?
Just as she stumbled, about to fall, he caught her waist in time.
Once she regained her balance, she realized his hand was still around her waist.
Time seemed to freeze; he made no move to let go, and she made no move to refuse.
She kept her head down, acutely aware of his intense gaze.
"With so many people around watching you throw yourself into my arms, aren't you worried your boyfriend will settle the score with you later?" he spoke softly, his tone leisurely as if discussing something amusing.
They were so close that his pleasant scent wafted over her, making her heart flutter.
She bit her lip, slowly raised her head, and met his teasing gaze. "You don't need to worry about that, Mr. Scott."
He chuckled again, his hand gentlemanly withdrawing from her waist.
All eyes around them were on them. Her face was a mix of embarrassment and frustration, watching as he tossed the club to the caddy.
She stood there, thinking she had offended him until a gentle male voice reached her ears.
"Miss Foster."
It was his secretary, Helen.
She lifted her head.
Helen said, "Mr. Scott mentioned he will stay at the Crescent Moon Hotel tonight."
As Rachel Foster entered the villa, she found Ivy Morgan sitting on the sofa, deep in thought. She handed her bag to the servant and softly called, "Auntie."Ivy snapped out of her daze and, seeing Rachel, quickly stood up. "You're back."
"Yes."
"You didn't come back to rest last night. I just called Oliver, and he said you stayed at the office overnight."
Rachel linked her arm with Ivy's. "With Jasper not around, there's a lot to handle at the company."
Ivy felt a pang of sympathy. "You've worked hard, Rachel."
Rachel shook her head and sat on the sofa with Ivy. "Have you had breakfast?"
Ivy shook her head slightly. "The police just called. They said Jasper will be charged tomorrow." The old lady's voice was choked with emotion.
Rachel gently hugged Ivy's shoulders. "I know, but you don't need to worry. I told you Kingsly Scott has agreed to help us, and Jasper won't be charged tomorrow."
Ivy's eyes were red as she tightly grasped Rachel's hand. "Rachel, you must ensure nothing happens to Jasper. If something happens to him, I..."
"Nothing will happen to Jasper," Rachel interrupted, comforting her. "Tomorrow, you'll see him come back safe and sound."
"Yes, yes..." Ivy nodded repeatedly, seeming reassured. "I trust you, Rachel, I trust you..."
After watching Ivy fall asleep in the afternoon, Rachel gently closed the door and returned to her room.
On the bedside table was a lavender teddy bear that Jasper had given her. She hugged it to her chest. Jasper had bought it for her during a business trip to Italy, saying the lavender scent would calm her and ease her discomfort.
Jasper was always so attentive. Over the years, she had lost count of everything he had done for her.
Inhaling the pleasant lavender scent, Rachel's eyes gradually reddened.
After meeting Kingsly Scott tonight, she planned to be honest with Jasper. Perhaps he would never forgive her for making such a decision. Still, regardless of his anger or frustration, she wouldn't regret it.
She cared for only four people, hoping they would be well. Everything else was secondary.
In the lobby of a five-star hotel in the city, Kingsly had sent his secretary to escort her.
Rachel had a good impression of Helen because she was always courteous in her actions and words.
Helen led her to the room. Since Kingsly hadn't arrived yet, Rachel decided to shower to relax.
Just after she finished her shower, Kingsly called the room.
"Have you had dinner?"
"...Yes." In truth, she hadn't, but she didn't want to say much to him.
"If not, let Helen accompany you downstairs for something to eat. I have a last-minute matter and might be a bit late."
Unlike his decisive business persona, his voice was as gentlemanly and pleasant as ever.
She didn't say more, her heart pounding with nerves until he hung up.
Helen knocked on the door outside. "Miss Foster, I've arranged for the hotel to prepare dinner for you."
"Thank you, but I'm not hungry."
After a quick reply to Helen, she jumped onto the bed, wrapping herself tightly in the covers.
"Alright, Miss Foster, if you need anything, please inform the hotel staff, and they will assist you."
"Okay."