“Of course, I don’t mind,” Xavier replied.
Joy turned to Eleanor. “Looks like you’ll be riding with Mr. Vaughn, then. I’ll head out on my own.”
With that, Joy hurried off to her car, started the engine, and drove away.
Eleanor glanced at Xavier. “Thank you. Sorry for the trouble.”
“No trouble at all—come on, hop in!” Xavier’s Bentley was parked right nearby.
Eleanor slid into the passenger seat. She was just buckling her seatbelt when a loud crash echoed from the exit ahead.
She looked up in alarm, just in time to see Ian’s sleek black Mercedes colliding head-on with a Porsche SUV.
Xavier’s eyes widened in shock. “I’d better check on them,” he said quickly to Eleanor.
She nodded, staying put inside the car.
The Porsche driver got out, while Ian remained in his seat. The Porsche owner glanced at Ian’s license plate and immediately realized he’d just run into someone important. Even if he thought he wasn’t at fault, it was time to tread carefully. He approached Ian’s window and tapped on the glass, plastering on a nervous, ingratiating smile. “Sir, are you alright?”
The window slid down, revealing Ian’s cold, composed profile. He hadn’t even unlatched his seatbelt. Without a word, he gave the Porsche driver a once-over, then pulled a business card from the console and handed it over. His voice was low and indifferent. “I’ll take full responsibility. Call my assistant to sort things out.”
Just then, Henry and Vanessa hurried over. Vanessa’s voice rang out, tinged with anxiety, “Ian, are you okay? Did you get hurt?”
On the drive home, Xavier tried to lighten the mood with small talk. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him. “I’ve always wondered—why didn’t you ever train with Ian? He’s an incredible coach.”
Eleanor gazed out the window, a bitter smile flickering across her face. Back then, just standing by Ian’s side felt like happiness. Now, looking back, she realized how foolish she’d been.
Vanessa was a great player—clearly, Ian had been an attentive coach to her.
Xavier chuckled softly. “You don’t have to answer.” After a pause, he added, “Ian didn’t look like he was in a good mood just now.”
“His mood has nothing to do with me,” Eleanor replied crisply.
Xavier let out a quiet breath, some of the tension in his face easing. What he feared most was that Eleanor might still be hung up on Ian—after all, he’d seen firsthand how happy she’d once been to marry him.

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