After two years apart, this place had seemingly become a famous spot for influencers to frequent.
The location was prime, boasting an unbeatable ocean view. The restaurant on the top floor was a gathering spot for many socialites and ladies enjoying their afternoon tea. Josie knew there was a spending limit there. Only the wealthy and noble could afford to go in.
She found a place to sit and reached out to the other party’s assistant. The person responded, “My boss is still sleeping at this hour. Could you please wait a bit?”
Sleeping at two in the afternoon? Josie’s lips curled into a smile. A figure suddenly emerged in her mind, and that was Morgan. That was something he was capable of doing.
Having arrived, she had no choice but to wait. Josie asked the waiter for the menu, not ordering any popular dishes. “A slice of raspberry cheesecake, a hot fudge sundae, and a bottle of white wine. Thank you,” she requested.
The waiter immediately showed a pleasant surprise. “Miss, you’re quite the connoisseur.”
Josie merely smiled without uttering a word. Basking in Dexter’s fortune, she sampled every dish there, a nostalgic reminder of her two years in Sumanthova. She often found herself yearning for the white wine from this hotel.
Dexter held a particular fondness for this place. The reason was simple. Russell Group was right across from this building.
Being close brought all sorts of conveniences, in every sense of the word.
Peering through the glass window, Josie gazed at the building across the street. Russell Group remained largely unchanged, as grand and majestic as it was in the past. The stream of tourists below was endless, and the bustling foreign concession, stretching for miles, was forever thriving.
As she looked on, a sudden wave of emotion washed over her. She snapped a picture, hesitating over whether or not to send it to Dexter. She typed: Is this a trip down memory lane…
After typing and deleting several words, feeling they weren’t quite right, she hesitated to send the message. Just then, murmurs of conversation echoed from behind her.
“That figure… From the photo, it does look like Josie…”
A group of women gathered together, whispering gossip amongst themselves.
“Who would have thought she’d actually return? Could she be targeting the Olsen family?”
“It’s hard to say. However, Dexter has long since stepped away from the limelight. Surely, she couldn’t have returned for him.”
“The way you’re talking, it’s as if she can get whatever she wants from Dexter. But let’s be real. What man would willingly settle for someone who’s been around? They all crave novelty. Besides, who knows how many people she’s been with out there? If I were Dexter, I’d find it distasteful.”
The most malicious words always seemed to spill from the lips of gossipy women.
As Josie listened, she absentmindedly toyed with her cake using her spoon, suddenly losing
her appetite.
Someone chuckled. “Shirley, where did you get your information from? Are you spreading wild rumors?”
“No. Rumors are saying that Josie only returned because she couldn’t make it out there,” said the woman with the shrill voice.
“Indeed, for her, someone like Dexter was the best she could ever hope for. Where else could she find someone better?”
It seemed to them that a woman’s worth was determined by the value a man placed on her.
“I even began to suspect that her dramatic interruption of Dexter’s wedding years ago was driven by ulterior motives.”
After the woman finished speaking, she let out a soft laugh.
That was this very statement that made Josie put down her spoon. She gracefully rose from her seat, her high heels clicking against the floor as she made her way to their table. “Ulterior motives, you say? I’d like to hear more about that.”
Before those people could even react, someone interjected, “What else could it be? Of course, it’s-“
Before she could finish her sentence, she found herself caught in Josie’s intense gaze. The profound darkness in her eyes was unsettling, making it impossible to discern her intentions.
The atmosphere suddenly became subtly awkward. Shirley Ross’ face flushed a deep red when she questioned, “H-How could you eavesdrop on others’ conversations?”
Josie squinted her eyes. “Ms. Ross, I thought. you’d be pleased when the person involved personally sings your praises.”
The faces of these women were so refined as if they were all crafted by the same surgeon. Yet, at that moment, their complexions were off, fluctuating between shades of pallor and sickly green.
