Chapter 33

I maintained my composure as Vernon shook his head with a sneer. He said, “Let me give you some advice, Joshua. Drop any inappropriate thoughts or ideas you might have. If you keep this up, you’re only going to hurt yourself.”

Trying to communicate with Vernon was exhausting. Everything he said left me speechless, and I had no idea how to respond to his nonsense. In the end, I simply replied, “You’re talking to the wrong person. If you want to marry Ranquelle, you should discuss it with her and her father, not me.”

I moved to start the car, but Vernon wasn’t done. He snapped, “Are you testing my patience? While I’m still in the mood to talk nicely, I suggest you keep your place. Things won’t end well for you if you keep getting in my way.”

I shook my head again. “You’ve got it all wrong—I’m not trying to cause you trouble. I simply can’t help you. You should try finding another way.”

As Vernon’s expression darkened, I added with a smile, “Here’s a little reminder, Mr. Chen. Jacquelle isn’t the faithful type—she might be with you today because you’re handsome and sweet-talking, but tomorrow, she’ll throw you away for someone else with the same qualities. I’ve seen this happen too many times. Good luck—you’ll need it.”

I started the car as Vernon’s face turned an ugly shade of red. He couldn’t argue because he knew I was right. After all, he was the “other man” himself.

After graduating, he hadn’t contacted Racquelle for years. When he returned to the country, he saw her at a party, more beautiful than ever and radiating sophistication. Then, he approached her despite knowing she had a boyfriend.

Vernon persistently pursued her and asked her out. Sure enough, Racquelle took the bait, quickly dumping her boyfriend to be with him. She would talk to him sweetly, making him feel like he was the only one for her.

Vernon thought he had her wrapped around his finger, but my warning finally made him realize something was wrong. I drove him to his place and dropped him off. As I was about to head home, Racquelle called again.

She sounded irritated as she questioned me, “Well, did you get him home safely?”

“Yes, he’s home,” I replied.

“Good,” she said dismissively. Then, she barked, “Now get your ass over here and pick me up! I have a party to attend, and if you make me late, you’ll pay for it!”

I was beyond frustrated. In fact, Racquelle was in such a hurry she could have called a cab. Nonetheless, I knew the answer—she just wanted the pleasure of making me miserable. I put the phone aside and drove to the office.

When I arrived, Racquelle threw her purse at my face. “Why are you so damn slow? My feet are killing me from waiting for you, you useless piece of trash!”

She yanked open the car door, slumped into the backseat, and snapped, “Drive!”

I responded wearily, “You haven’t told me where to go yet.”