Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now

Chapter 809



Chapter 809:

His trust, much like his kindness, always seemed to dance around the mark, never quite hitting the bullseye, leaving her hanging.noveldrama

At the TV station, it was Group A’s 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. “Tessie, if you please, play the music… everyone, fall in behind me—let’s get this show on the road!”

As the beat kicked in, Hadley stretched her arms gracefully. She didn’t join the dance, instead keeping time like a seasoned conductor, steering the troupe with ease.

“Hadley.” After the session wrapped, Linda sauntered over, her smile dripping with faux concern. “Are you holding up alright?”

Hadley arched a brow, unfazed. “Do I look like I’m falling apart at the seams?”

Linda smirked inwardly.

After everything that had gone down, she refused to buy Hadley’s calm facade—surely it was all smoke and mirrors!

With a sly nod toward Megan, who lingered nearby, Linda dropped her bombshell. “Word has it Eric was with Megan last night. Hours on end, just the two of them—what do you reckon they were up to?”

Hadley didn’t bite. Was Linda stirring the pot again?

𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓈 ga l no v els .co m

She flashed a serene smile and turned the tables. “Sounds like you’re barking up the wrong tree. If you’re dying to know, why not ask Megan yourself?” Then, a spark of mischief lit her eyes as she leaned in. “Wait a minute—are you green with envy over Megan?”

Linda’s scheme backfired spectacularly, her face flushing with a mix of fury and humiliation. “What a load of rubbish!” she snapped.

Just then, the practice room door burst open with a bang, and Theodore charged in, breathless.

He dashed to Hadley’s side, his voice thick with urgency. “Miss Pearson! Trouble is brewing—Mr. Flynn’s in real trouble!”

Eric had been attacked.

Half an hour earlier, as he left the Flynn Group CEO’s 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 wasn’t 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.

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