Chapter 417 Where Are My Underpants?
"Are you annoying or what? I already told you I'm not going back, and you keep annoying me"
The girl's face darkened after being yelled at.
"What bad luck."
Seeing that she'd been found, the girl lost all interest in flirting and turned to leave.
The girl who had come later followed her like a little tail, sticking to her wherever she went.
Looked like the fun was over.
And now she had to deal with this annoyance.
Michael watched them like a hunter in the forest, following them as they wandered around the place.
"Mr. Jimenez, interested in her?"
The bartender noticed Michael's eyes hadn't left the two women and came over to fill him in. "That woman's a regular here, always hanging around our place. She's hooked up with quite a few rich guys and gotten plenty of benefits. The one following her is her sister. I heard their family's pretty well-off, but some people are just born rebellious. Her sister's supposed to be some top student."
Michael listened without responding.
He'd come here to get drunk, but halfway through, he stopped.
When he was leaving, he called for a designated driver.
While waiting, that young girl came out of the bar looking dejected, reeking of alcohol.
Her clothes were stained with spills here and there.
Michael watched her looking so downcast and, oddly enough, found himself superimposing Thalia's face onto this girl. Couldn't blame him—her outfit really looked too similar.
"Didn't manage to bring her out?"
The sudden voice startled Azalea Gray. Looking up, she saw a tall man leaning against a car, the dim yellow streetlights on both sides of the road seeming to coat him in a faint golden glow.
Just looking at him commanded respect.
A man like this would shock anyone who saw him.
Michael regretted it a bit when he saw the woman's face, but having already spoken, he couldn't take it back.
Just then, the designated driver arrived. "Where to? Want a ride?"
"Westbridge University." Azalea had her own agenda. At this moment, her mind was full of those romance novels she'd secretly read during evening study sessions in high school—a domineering CEO picking up a pitiful Cinderella on the roadside, taking her home, spoiling her rotten. Her current situation needed someone to pull her out of the mire.
If that person could be this man in front of her, nothing could be better.
"Get in."
Azalea watched the man get in the back seat and opened the door to get in.
Then she heard the man say coldly, "Sit in front."
The car drove all the way to Westbridge University. Azalea sat inside, anxious and restless, trying to figure out what the man in the back was thinking.
She thought he'd have some demands, but until the car stopped at the Westbridge University entrance, he didn't say a word.
Michael had originally wanted to find a substitute to comfort his wounded soul, but as soon as the girl got in the car, that cheap perfume smell hit him, killing all his emotions.
Thalia would never wear such cheap perfume.
...........
Selene came home from the charity gala, took a shower and changed clothes, and then video-called someone on her phone. On the other side, a girl in cute pajamas sat in front of the camera listening to her talk about tonight's events.
"You said you met your dream Prince Charming. Who is it?"
"William, ever heard of him? Emerald City's new elite." When Selene mentioned William, her eyes were practically glowing.
On the other side, the girl paused, her hand freezing as she looked at Selene in shock.
"What's wrong? You know him?"
The girl barely recovered. "Met him a few times. Truly stunning. Only a man like that is worthy of you."
"After seeing him today, I suddenly feel like those idols in the entertainment industry really can't compare."
"The Peterson family is somebody in Emerald City anyway. You could mention him to your dad, and have your dad create more opportunities for you two. Who knows, maybe one day you'll become Mrs. Brown! God, I'm so jealous."
Hearing this, Selene's eyes curved with delight. "I wonder what type he likes. Do you think I have a chance?"
"Try it! What if?"
The next morning, Emerald City was in chaos. Apparently, several businessmen's warehouses had caught fire last night, alarming the entire city's fire department.
The sirens pierced the sky, tearing the night apart.
"Haven't you noticed? The people who had incidents last night were all those surrounding Steven at the awards ceremony."
"You mean?" The person looked in surprise at the other, who simply nodded.
If this really was William's doing, these people were truly unlucky.
They just wanted to climb higher, never imagining they'd become sacrifices in someone else's power struggle.
William—his methods were too ruthless.
When others did something, there'd be communication up and down the chain, strategic planning. But he didn't need that. When he wanted to deal with someone, he just did it, giving no one any breathing room.
Thalia went to the set early. Layla was negotiating with the director. Seeing her arrive, she waved for people around her to disperse. "Did you hear? Last night, several big businessmen in Emerald City had their factories catch fire out of nowhere. The estimated losses are in the hundreds of millions."
"Didn't hear about it," Thalia said as she was removing her nail polish.
Layla didn't believe it. "You don't know? Everyone outside is saying William did it."
Thalia tossed what she was holding into the trash and shot back, "So what if he did it?"
Layla asked, "Why so cranky? Who upset you?"
Thalia turned her head. "No one."
"You think I'll believe that?"
"Your phone's ringing." Layla didn't press Thalia further. She could guess what happened without asking.
She was used to it by now.
Thalia answered the phone. A man in a bathrobe stood in the center of his walk-in closet, looking at the empty drawers, and asked in a low voice, "Where are my underpants?"
"Threw them out."
"All of them?"
"All of them, not a single one left!" After saying this, Thalia tossed her phone onto a nearby chair.
John, with his back to her, heard this and his mouth twitched.
So that big bag of stuff she was carrying when she left this morning—that was William's underpants?