Chapter 129
When Cedric was on pins and needles, a loud noise of a chair grating against the floor cut through the deathly silence of the office.
It was a sharp and spooky sound. Cedric wished he could just tuck his head into his chest as, from the corner of his eye, he saw Remington, radiating an icy chill, heading for the door.
Cedric hurried to follow, but nearly got his nose squashed by the door slamming shut. For the sake of his own skin, he wisely decided not to follow any further.
Down at the café.
The lawyer Lizetta had hired bolted as soon as he found out the other party was Remington.
Lizetta couldn’t hold him back, so she had to wait there by herself. She glanced at the time, she had booked the dance studio and needed to hustle over there to practice later.
But this time, she should be able to smoothly get Remington to sign the divorce papers, right? As Lizetta was mulling this over, an intense gaze locked onto her as if it were tangible.
When Lizetta looked up, the man was already striding over to her, bringing a cold breeze with him.
“What, ah! What are you doing?”
Remington grabbed Lizetta’s wrist, yanked her up from her seat, and started heading out. The man’s back gave off a cold and fierce vibe as he strode quickly and urgently.
Lizetta was only 5’6“, much shorter than him, and stumbled as she was dragged along, banging her thigh against the corner of a nearby table.
She winced in pain and struggled, “Remington, let go!”
The man was deaf to her pleas, pulling her out of the café and into the elevator down to the underground parking.
It was the middle of the workday, and the parking lot was deserted.
Lizetta, frightened by his dominant and fierce aura, struggled even harder, “It hurts; can’t you just tell me what you want to say?”
Remington finally stopped, but the next second he turned around and slammed the divorce papers into Lizetta’s arms.
Lizetta clutched the papers in panic, only to be scooped up by Remington. He took a few quick steps, opened the car door, and stuffed her inside.
Lizetta kicked and tried to jump out, not cooperating at all, “What on earth are you doing? I have things to
do.”
Before she could finish, with a click, Remington buckled her seatbelt and slammed the car door shut with a bang.
Lizetta was fuming, but then a thought struck her. Could it be that Remington was eager to whisk her off to City Hall?
She stopped struggling and hastily flipped to the last page of the divorce agreement. But there, only her own signature was on it; Remington still hadn’t signed.
Lizetta’s anger flared up even more, and as soon as Remington got in the car, she confronted him irritably.
“What’s the meaning of this? You said yourself, as long as I pay back 3 million to the Dashiell family, you’d
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agree to the divorce. I’ve agreed to your terms now, why won’t you sign?”
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