All That's Left Are Memories

Chapter 8 We're Racing

In the past few days, Cynthia's last shred of patience had already worn away.

That slap had shattered whatever remained between them.

"I didn't do anything," she said quietly. Her calm voice felt colder than anger. "You can't close a deal, so you blame me? What about your brilliant secretary? Why not ask her to solve your problem?"

Russell's vision darkened with rage.

The Cynthia he knew had never spoken to him like that.

He forced himself to calm down, but as his eyes swept across the living room, he suddenly froze.

All the luxury gifts he had once given her were gone.

The glittering jewelry, the limited-edition handbags... Each piece had been something he carefully picked out for her.

Just to spite him, she had sold them all.

During the weeks he had frozen her finances, she had sold them off rather than lower herself to ask him for money.

Russell took a deep breath and softened his tone, adopting a patronizing air.

"Cynthia, stop being stubborn. I shouldn't have hit you, fine. But you ruined my deal, so now we're even. This project matters. Go talk to Mr. Dudley for me. If you do that, I'll restore all your cards immediately."

Cynthia looked at him. For some reason, she suddenly found the whole thing ridiculous.

Even now, he still believed money was what she cared about.

"Russell," she said quietly, her eyes steady, "whatever we had ended the day you hit me for her."

"I'm not going. And I won't regret it. If there's one thing I regret, it's marrying you in the first place!"

She turned to leave the suffocating room.

But Russell suddenly grabbed her wrist. His grip was brutal, dragging her toward the door with no room for resistance.

"I've arranged to meet Mr. Dudley at Thalasso Mountain tonight," he said. "We're racing. Your social circle overlaps with his. You should know him. Say a few nice things to him in the car, and the project will work itself out."

His tone was casual, as if her consent didn't matter. His fingers dug into her wrist so hard it felt like her bones might c***k.

"Russell, let go! I'm not going!"

Her struggle was useless against his strength. He dragged her out of the house and shoved her roughly into the back seat of the car.

Only then did Cynthia realize something. Jessica was sitting in the passenger seat.

She turned around slowly and gave Cynthia a faint, knowing smile.

By the time the car reached Thalasso Mountain, the night air had turned icy. That was when Cynthia finally met the man Russell had been talking about, Wesley Dudley.

His hair was dyed bright pink, and the studs in his ears caught the neon lights of the racetrack. Two glamorous women leaned against him on either side, while his entire demeanor screamed reckless arrogance.

Cynthia felt her heart skip.

She remembered him. He was a year younger than she. When they were children, he used to follow her around constantly. She found him annoying back then. She had bullied him more than once, once even shoving him straight into a swimming pool.

The Parra family and Benjamin had always been close. But she and Wesley hadn't spoken in years.

After that day at the pool, he never came looking for her again.

Cynthia gave a bitter little smile. 'It really is a small world.'

Russell's project was definitely dead in the water now.