Chapter 220
It felt like the person who had readily agreed to my request the day before wasn’t him.
I was annoyed and speechless. “Didn’t you promise not to let anyone else know for now?”
Gregory frowned. “I promised not to let others know you were spying and even recorded a video.”
So, by that logic, he was faultless. Was it me who didn’t make my point clear?
“Do you have a beef with the Ferguson family?”
“No.” Gregory looked at me, puzzled, “Don’t you get how ruthless the business world can be? Hanging around with Bryant for three years, didn’t he teach you any of this?”
I was stunned by his terrifying honesty and second question.
I clenched my palm and responded truthfully, “No.”
What had Bryant taught me in three years? Independence, tolerance, patience, and giving.
Apart from treating each other with respect, we had no other interaction. Bryant never involved me in the gritty details of his business world.
in to paus
It was Gregory’s turn to pause. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You’re an interesting person.”
“Aren’t you interesting, too?” I smiled wryly, “On the one hand, playing corporate games with Bryant and telling his wife on the other, what’s your angle?”
Gregory straightened his coat and draped it over his arm. “If I’m not mistaken, our goals are the same here, aren’t they?”
“How’s that?” I was amused, “Do you know you’ve messed up my plans?”
Gregory was surprised. “I messed up your plans?”
“I would have smoothly gotten my divorce papers if you had just waited a few minutes before spilling the beans.”
He frowned, “Aren’t you divorcing Bryant because of that woman with the Ferguson surname? Didn’t I help you?”
I was speechless again. “I want a divorce, man. I don’t need your help. Just the divorce is fine.”
He leaned against the railing, arms crossed, a hint of surprise in his eyes. “You want a divorce?” “Yes, very much so,” I answered without hesitation.
From the moment we lost our child, Bryant and I were over. There were no strings attached.
The help and care he provided during college were offset by the debts he owed me over these three years. We were at a dead end, with divorce being the only way forward. But I wasn’t surprised that others might not believe I genuinely wanted a divorce.
After all, a person like me, without parents or background, marrying into the Ferguson family was like striking the jackpot. How could I willingly divorce and give up such a fortune?
Hearing that, Gregory replied lazily, “Then you’ll have your wish.”
I was puzzled. “What?”
He glanced at me, saying, “With Dorothy setting her sights on Bryant, you becoming the ex–wife was just a matter of time.”
That was straight to the point
“Thanks,” I said.
When thinking back on Bryant’s wariness toward Gregory, I grew curious, “And you? Who are you?”
From Gregory’s words, all I could deduce was that Dorothy wasn’t a local from RiverCity
Combining that with Bryant and Mark’s conversation, it was clear the Myers family was no small fry, perhaps even more influential than
the Ferguson family. And Gregory, acquainted with Dorothy, likely came from a comparable background.
“Are you curious about me?” He stood up straight, one hand in his pocket, the playful tilt in his eyes carrying a hint of audacity, “Information like that comes at a price.”