"He is not like you."
With just one sentence, the man’s eyes changed dramatically, filled with suppressed rage. His words ca out laced with irresistible scorn, "True, there’s no point in competing with a dead person. Soone like him, even hell would probably not give him peace."
Realizing his loss of control, he took a deep breath, regaining his usual icy deanor, his words suddenly serious, "Hannah Winter, did you have a hand in this recent incident?"
Hannah raised an eyebrow, "Which incident are you referring to? My heart isn’t so great, and I’ve been involved in plenty of misdeeds. I’ve started to wonder whether I will find peace in hell when my ti cos."
She was regurgitating his words back at him.
Was this to vent her frustration for Arnold Simmons?
George River found it amusing, but there was no laughter in his voice. His voice was underpinned by a chill as he said, "The trending news story, are you going after Tiffany?"
Hannah glanced at him but did not refute.
Tired from carrying her things, she decided to place them on a chair nearby.
She wanted to sit down as well, but noticing the water stains on the seat, she frowned slightly in annoyance.
Upon noticing Hannah’s actions, George was montarily stricken, but he quickly regained his composure.
The reflexes of his body outpaced his thinking.
By the ti he regained consciousness, he had already spread his coat on the bench.
As Hannah sat down, she expressed her satisfaction with a thank you, then asked, "What did you say just now? I didn’t hear you clearly."
Her eyes sparkled with amusent, reflecting the warm yellow street lights. Her actions were far from tender; instead, it felt like she was toying with him.
George shook his head, intending to sit down beside her, only to realize there was no space left. He had no choice but to stand to the side, "Is your targeting of Tiffany a retaliation for what I did to you back then?"
With one hand resting on the back of the chair, Hannah looked up at the man standing in front of her. Her long eyelashes fluttered slightly as she adjusted the hemline of her slightly disheveled skirt, "George River, honestly, I don’t think what you did back then was particularly wrong. You provided money and resources; our relationship was transactional. If I needed to bla anyone, it’d probably be myself for being greedy, wanting money and a person, and coveting sothing that wasn’t mine."
A surrogacy contract. Indeed, it was an absurd thing, but everything was clearly stated. Thus, their relationship was rely a transaction.
Thinking about it, the one who really breached the contract in this transaction was the original Hannah Winter. George had provided her with money. Even though she knew in her heart that she wasn’t attracted to his wealth, it was the only connection they could possibly have.
Nothing else existed outside of it.
To be honest, among the four hypocritical n, George didn’t owe the original Hannah anything from the start. If he did anything wrong, at most, it’s his moral indifference to her distress?
But that was only the case in the original plot. As for now, the scores between her and George would be settled separately.
George suddenly stepped forward, his shadow enveloping her in the chair. At the mont, he had the illusion that Hannah Winter still belonged to him.
"So, have you suddenly co to a realization now?"
Hannah chuckled lightly, "You could say that. I just feel that, one must reclaim what’s theirs. It’s uncomfortable to leave sothing of mine with soone else, really."
George cut to the chase, "Did you have Jerry Cooper investigated?"
Hannah looked innocent, her eyes shining like stars, "Do you think I have such capabilities?"
George took Hannah’s words as her unwillingness to tell him and felt a chill in his heart, "Arnold Simmons didn’t help you, did he?"
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