Chapter 7 High-End Hunters Often Appear as Prey
Matilda glanced at Reuben, then at Adalyn. She was so angry she almost laughed: "Are you two done yet? I already told you, if you want me to pay, then call the traffic police. Whatever the police say I should pay, that's what I'll pay."
Adalyn walked over with a cold laugh: "Matilda, just how poor are you? Is it really necessary to be so stingy over 2000 dollars? Or are you deliberately using this 2000 dollars as an excuse to get close to my boyfriend?"
"Me, get close to him? Are you kidding? He's such trash, someone else can have him!"
Reuben's face darkened when he heard Matilda's words.
He probably really didn't want to keep arguing with Matilda, so he said to Adalyn: "Addie, why don't we just forget it?"
"No way!" Adalyn yelled, "Are you that rich? Just throwing away 2000 dollars like that? Don't forget, the money for your car came from your mom selling the orchard back home."
Reuben's face looked terrible, but he didn't dare get angry. He didn't dare offend Adalyn.
Watching his pathetic behavior, Matilda couldn't stand it anymore.
She simply pulled out her phone and said, "Fine, I'll pay you. I'll consider this 2000 dollars as feeding a dog—a lapdog who sucks up to this person today and that person tomorrow, always just a dog."
Reuben didn't dare get angry at Adalyn, so he took it out on Matilda instead. "What did you say? Say that again!"
"I said you're a lapdog. Not just once, but twice—lapdog, lapdog, lapdog..."
Just as Reuben was about to hit her again, his hand was grabbed by someone.
Not only grabbed, but thrown backward, and Reuben fell onto a nearby flower bed.
He looked at the person in front of him in disbelief.
It was Wentworth again!
How was he so strong?
When Matilda saw Wentworth, she immediately felt relieved and much more confident.
Wentworth took out his wallet from his pocket, pulled out 2000 dollars in cash, and threw it in Reuben's face. Then he said coldly, "From now on, don't bother her again. Next time, see you in court!"
With that, he got on Matilda's scooter just like yesterday.
Matilda fell silent.
Whatever, she'd better just drive.
...
On the ground, Reuben sat there like an idiot.
He looked at the bills scattered everywhere but didn't know whether to pick them up.
His mind was full of one thought: Who was that man?
Adalyn standing nearby was also quite unhappy.
She used to think Reuben looked pretty good—5.8 feet tall, not short, healthy complexion, handsome features. But when Wentworth appeared, Adalyn's gaze was involuntarily drawn to him.
Wentworth was not only tall but had great presence.
That noble yet rugged quality was something you couldn't find in ten thousand men.
Now when she looked at Reuben, he seemed so ordinary and cowardly.
"Are you going to take this money or not?" Adalyn asked.
That reminded Reuben. He laughed bitterly: "Take it, I guess. Didn't you say I'm poor? How can I not take it?"
"Who was that man just now? Do you know him?"
"How would I know him? Probably one of Matilda's patients. I just smelled medicine on him," Reuben said.
While helping him pick up the money, Adalyn said: "That guy looked pretty good, quite tall."
Reuben panicked immediately. Worried that Adalyn might change her mind, he quickly tried to appease her: "That guy's obviously a jock. Jocks are all brawn and no brains. Look, he doesn't even have a car—he has to ride on Matilda's little scooter."
At this, Adalyn finally felt a bit better.
Reuben put his arm around her and whispered in her ear: "Addie, I want to go to your place later and taste some of your cherry pie."
When he said "cherry pie," Adalyn's face immediately turned red. Only those in the know understood what that phrase really meant.
"Let's go then, but you have to buy me dinner first."
"No problem."
...
Matilda drove Wentworth to the hospital entrance.
She stopped the scooter first, then asked him: "Why did you come again?"
"To pick you up after work," Wentworth said.
Matilda was completely speechless.
Who was picking up who here?
Wentworth probably guessed what Matilda was thinking. He said: "How about I drive?"
"I'll drive. You're still injured, and I want to go home and get some things. You don't know the way."
Wentworth didn't argue with her. He obediently sat on the back seat of the scooter.
He just felt that she smelled nice—comfortable and relaxing.
...
At the intersection.
The red light here was particularly long—a full minute.
Inside the black business car, Bob casually glanced over and spotted Wentworth.
"Mr. Charles Gonzaga, is that Mr. Wentworth Gonzaga sitting on that scooter over there?"
Charles looked in the direction Bob was pointing.
He saw Wentworth sitting on the back seat of a scooter. With his long arms and legs, he took up half the scooter.
The girl driving in front looked tiny in comparison. To support his weight, she had her feet planted on the ground, looking quite strained.
After a while, the light turned green. The girl skillfully started the scooter and wobbled forward.
Wentworth sat in the back, looking completely at ease.
Charles couldn't help but comment: "That kid, what an achievement!"
Bob said, "Mr. Wentworth Gonzaga isn't short on money. Why doesn't he buy that young lady a car?"
Charles thought for a moment and said, "Maybe skilled hunters often appear as prey."
Bob found this complicated. He didn't understand, so he just asked, "Mr. Charles Gonzaga, should we follow them?"
"No need."
Charles looked at the documents in his hand.
He had already had his assistant do a full investigation of Matilda, including all places where she might have encountered Wentworth in recent years.
Except for checking into a hotel two months ago, there were no other intersections. Matilda was a homebody who only went to work and stayed home otherwise.
And two months ago she was still dating a boyfriend who cheated on her.
Looking at her life story, it was nothing but heartbreaking.
A girl like this couldn't possibly be scheming to get close to Wentworth—she didn't have that kind of energy.
...
Matilda drove Wentworth and arrived at her old house half an hour later.
The old house was a walk-up building from the early 1980s, seven floors. She lived on the 5th floor.
Starting from the iron gate downstairs, you could see the stairwell covered with small ads—drain cleaning, pipe repair, even ads guaranteeing the gender of babies.
Matilda asked Wentworth, "With your injury, can you manage the stairs?"
"Completely fine," Wentworth said, then asked: "Have you lived here since you were little?"
"Yeah, this is the house my grandpa left behind. Now that housing prices are so high, I don't have money to buy a new place. I even took out loans for medical school tuition and only paid them off slowly after graduation."
Wentworth nodded, showing understanding.
When they reached the 5th floor and Matilda was unlocking the door with her key, the door across from them opened, and a man in his 60s came out.
"Matty, you're back?" David looked very concerned when he saw Matilda.