Jerome paid no attention to the short-haired woman’s screaming and instead kept his burning gaze fixed on Cheyenne’s face.

Her fair face flushed with anger, adding two cherry-red blushes to her cheeks that made her look even more delicious.

Then, the beautiful woman smiled sweetly and reached into her bag to pull out a stack of bills, which she stuffed into Jerome’s hand.

Her slender fingers caressed his shoulder slowly and seductively as she spoke in a low voice. “How about I pay you $100,000 for one night? Your looks are much better than those gigolos I’ve seen before.”

Jerome was annoyed by the comparison and furrowed his eyebrows. “They can’t compare to me!”

“Is that so?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I can cum seven times a night. Want to try it? It won’t cost you anything.” Suddenly he grabbed her hand and planted a kiss on the back of it as Cheyenne looked on in shock.

“Smack!” The loud slap made everyone break out in cold sweat, especially the short-haired woman who stared at Cheyenne with wide eyes. “You…you dare!”

Jerome’s face bore clear finger marks. This was the first time that he had ever been beaten.

Lifting her head, the man pressed his lips together and couldn’t help but chuckle, “Baby, your palms are so soft. Slapping me on the face feels strangely sweet.”

Damn, could this guy be into BDSM?

Cheyenne gazed at him like he was a pervert. “You’re nuts. No more talking.”

“Hmm?” Jerome watched as Cheyenne ran back to her car and drove away.

He smiled. “Tom, write down that license plate number and find out who that woman is.”

“Mr. Witt, are you looking for revenge?” Tom asked cautiously, already imagining the woman’s misery.

“What do you think? Don’t hurt her,” Jerome replied firmly.

For the first time in his life, a woman had dared to slap him across the face. Jerome found himself quite drawn to her fiery spirit. Of course, he might just end up dumping her after he got what he wanted.

‘You’ll pay for this,’ he thought angrily.

Because of that disgusting man, Cheyenne had forgotten to buy a cake for her grandfather. It wasn’t until she was almost at his house an hour later that she remembered.

She caught sight of a middle-aged woman selling cotton candy on the side of the road and suddenly had an idea. “Ma’ma, can I have two cotton candies?”

“Sure thing.”

Cheyenne parked her car under a tree and squatted next to the woman as she watched sugar turn into fluffy clouds through a small hole in a metal container while the woman deftly spun it around with a bamboo stick.

Soon, the cotton candy grew bigger and bigger until it became a big white ball, which was then handed to Cheyenne.

Her eyes turned red as she remembered her grandfather picking her up from school when she was in elementary school. Whenever she acted cute in front of him, he would buy her a cotton candy.

It had been three years since she last saw her grandfather and forgot what sweetness tasted like.

Kelvin only brought endless bitterness to her life.

“Miss, your order is ready,” said the vendor.

“Oh? Okay.” Cheyenne took the cotton candy and concealed her emotions. She took out a hundred dollars from her bag and put it in the box where the woman collected money. Then she silently walked away.

Running this roadside stall wasn’t easy; they had to wake up early and work late just to earn a few bucks. Plus, city management was strict too – they had to hide here and there just so that they could make some money each day.

Cheyenne wanted to help out however little it may be.

In the distance, Chris saw an incredibly beautiful woman wearing a black strap dress walking on the pedestrian path with cotton candy in hand under tree shadows. The sunlight shone on her small face as white as pear blossoms; although her eyes were red rimmed, there was still an intoxicated smile in them.

He murmured under his breath, “Isn’t that Mrs. Foley?”

Kelvin looked over and saw the figure slowly approaching, licking a cotton candy like a child with a satisfied smile on her face.

For a moment, he felt dazed.

Then his brow furrowed tightly. How could she be here? Did she intentionally inquire about his whereabouts and know that he would come to Shedale for signing this morning?

At the thought of this, Kelvin’s face turned dark and cold.

If she dared to continue haunting him, he wouldn’t let her go so easily anymore.

Unexpectedly, when they brushed past each other, Cheyenne seemed not to have seen him at all.

Her gaze remained calm and steady on the road ahead without any pause for even a moment.

The high heels made clear and rhythmic thudding sounds as she walked away gradually into the distance. The woman got into the car and left just like that.

Huh?

Ignoring him completely?

Great! This is exactly what Kelvin wanted – Cheyenne finally stopped clinging onto him.

“Mr. Foley…hello, can you hear me?” The middle-aged man whispered.

Kelvin’s handsome face darkened slightly as he nodded. “I’ve heard you. I think there are some issues with the investment ratios…”

Chris sighed, not understanding the affairs between the CEO and his wife.

Maybe it was because he was a perpetual bachelor.

How could Cheyenne not have feelings for him? After all, he was her first and only love. But Cheyenne’s pride would never allow her to show any vulnerability in front of him.

She angrily bit into a piece of cotton candy, its sweetness finally soothing her inner turmoil.

After a moment, the car stopped in front of an old-fashioned courtyard house. This courtyard house was the ancestral home of the Edwards family and had been destroyed by war at one point. Later on, Cheyenne’s grandfather repaired it to its original state and moved back here after their family business went bankrupt.

Cheyenne looked at this familiar courtyard house with a long-lost smile on her face. She hesitated for a moment before walking up to it and gently knocking three times on the door handle.

“Who is it?”

A familiar voice echoed from inside and Cheyenne’s nose tingled as tears threatened to fall down her cheeks. She bit down hard on her lip to hold them back.

“Grandpa…it’s me.”

“Clang.” The door suddenly opened, and a cool breeze blew in from outside.

Leaves were carried by the wind and landed at the old man’s feet. He was wearing handmade white cloth shoes with some paint stains on them. He wore a neat traditional suit, black reading glasses, and had gray hair…

At first glance, he seemed like an ordinary old man.

The only thing that made him stand out was his scholarly aura; one could tell he was a cultured person at first sight.

“Cheyenne, you finally decided to come back,” he said hoarsely with an upward inflection in his voice.