Boss, Your Ex-Wife is Unreachable Now! novel Chapter 18

On the other side of town, Willow managed to keep her composure despite the unpleasant incident in the elevator. Today was her mentor's birthday celebration, and no matter what, she was determined to enjoy herself for his sake.

By the time she returned to her temporary hotel that evening, it was close to nine o'clock. She took a quick shower, then, still wide awake, picked up her sketchbook and began to draw. She didn't stop until two or three in the morning, finally putting down her pencil and drifting off to sleep.

That night, for the first time in a while, Willow slept soundly—no nightmares haunted her.

The next morning, she got ready, had breakfast in the hotel restaurant, and set off with three portraits she'd sketched the night before.

Now that she was divorced, she could finally investigate freely, gather evidence, and—if things went her way—see Beasley put behind bars.

Even if she couldn't get him locked up, she was determined to make him pay dearly.

For Willow, revenge was a patient pursuit. Ten years, a lifetime—she would wait as long as it took.

At ten thirty, Willow took a cab to Silent Oak Pottery in Northcrest.

"In a few days we'll be working together again. What's so urgent that it couldn't wait? Did you really have to come over today?" Maurice Yale glanced up at Willow, who had dropped by unannounced, then returned his focus to the delicate gold lines he was painting on a porcelain vase.

His mouth, however, didn't pause for a second. "We just saw each other yesterday. Here you are again. Miss me already? Can't stand a day apart?"

Maurice was talented in every way, except that he could be infuriatingly talkative.

Willow ignored his chatter and walked straight over to him, pulling three pencil portraits from a folder and handing them to him. "I need to find these three foreigners. I don't know their names or ages. Can you ask your brother for help? I owe you one."

Maurice's older brother was the chief of police. If he agreed to help, the odds of finding them would be much higher.

Maurice paused, casting a glance at the sketches she'd handed him. His refined brow furrowed. "Why are you looking for them?"

He was annoyed—her drawing skills seemed to have improved again! Did she really have to surpass him in everything, even portrait sketches?

Pressing his lips together, Maurice made no attempt to hide the irritation on his handsome, fair face.

Willow was used to his moods and responded dryly, "Revenge."

Willow knew all about it, but as far as she was concerned, a little healthy competition in science and technology was a good thing.

"Thank you, Maurice." Willow placed the three sketches on the table, her tone sincere.

Maurice froze for a moment. Willow had never been one for joking around with him. If anything, she was stricter than some of their older colleagues during research projects.

Now, hearing her thank him so earnestly, he felt a little thrown off.

He quickly put on a stern face. "Tch, since when did you get so sentimental?"

"Oh, right, I almost forgot—it's usually your job to be long-winded. My apologies," Willow teased, her smile warm and mischievous.

A faint blush crept up Maurice's ears, annoyance written all over his face.

He couldn't even win an argument with her. Was there anything more exasperating?