Chapter 809
Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now
Chapter 809:
His trust, much like his kindness, always seemed to dance around the mark, never quite hitting the bullseye, leaving her hanging.
At the TV station, it was Group Aâs turn to rehearse, with the official recording set to kick off next week. Every artist showed up, ready to roll.
Hadley slipped into her workout gear and stepped into the practice room, her presence calm and commanding.
Her eyes skimmed over Linda and Megan, cool as a cucumber, betraying no flicker of emotion.
She took her spot at the front, giving her hands a light clap. âTessie, if you please, play the music⦠everyone, fall in behind meâletâs get this show on the road!â
As the beat kicked in, Hadley stretched her arms gracefully. She didnât join the dance, instead keeping time like a seasoned conductor, steering the troupe with ease.
âHadley.â After the session wrapped, Linda sauntered over, her smile dripping with faux concern. âAre you holding up alright?â
Hadley arched a brow, unfazed. âDo I look like Iâm falling apart at the seams?â
Linda smirked inwardly.
After everything that had gone down, she refused to buy Hadleyâs calm facadeâsurely it was all smoke and mirrors!
With a sly nod toward Megan, who lingered nearby, Linda dropped her bombshell. âWord has it Eric was with Megan last night. Hours on end, just the two of themâwhat do you reckon they were up to?â
Hadley didnât bite. Was Linda stirring the pot again?
ð¯ð»ð®ð® ð¬ð±ðªð¹ð½ð®ð»ð ga l no v els .co m
She flashed a serene smile and turned the tables. âSounds like youâre barking up the wrong tree. If youâre dying to know, why not ask Megan yourself?â Then, a spark of mischief lit her eyes as she leaned in. âWait a minuteâare you green with envy over Megan?â
Lindaâs scheme backfired spectacularly, her face flushing with a mix of fury and humiliation. âWhat a load of rubbish!â she snapped.
Just then, the practice room door burst open with a bang, and Theodore charged in, breathless.
He dashed to Hadleyâs side, his voice thick with urgency. âMiss Pearson! Trouble is brewingâMr. Flynnâs in real trouble!â
Eric had been attacked.
Half an hour earlier, as he left the Flynn Group CEOâs office and headed toward the underground parking lot, someone had suddenly charged at him, brandishing a machete.
Without a single word of warning, the attacker had swung the blade at him.
Fortunately, the injury wasnât severe.
Now, sitting in the car en route to the hospital, Hadley clasped her hands tightly in her lap, her lips drawn into a thin, unreadable line.
.
.
.