Chapter 82
The next morning, Kingsley and Shane headed to the airport.
While waiting in the lounge, Kingsley reviewed the feedback from the Lunar Tide project supervisors and sent a message to Sean.
Sean replied quickly: [Mr. Sherwood, aren’t you in the project group chat p>
Kingsley typed: [I’m just the investor p>
Sean shot back instantly: [So you’re using me as your mouthpiece p>
This time, Kingsley didn’t respond. He put his phone away and waited quietly to board.
Several hours later, Kingsley arrived in The Capital. Without sparing a moment for jet lag, he went straight to the Sherwood Group headquarters.
Files were already piled high on his desk. He had been buried in work for nearly an hour when a knock came at the door.
“Come in,” he said coldly.
Thurston pushed the door open, taking in the mountain of paperwork with a teasing smile. “Well, well. Mr. Sherwood is busy the moment he touches down? Looks like I came at a bad time p>
Kingsley glanced up, his tone devoid of warmth. “Do you need something p>
“You just got back from Switzerland,” Thurston said, pulling a chair up to the desk. He eyed the documents, his voice laced with probing curiosity. “So, did you go there to chase after someone p>
Kingsley didn’t look up, his pen continuing to glide across the paper. “If you’re here to talk nonsense, get out. I don’t have time to waste p>
“You can talk while you sign. It won’t slow you down,” Thurston pressed, remaining seated. “Seriously, what did you do in Switzerland p>
“Work.” Kingsley offered only that single word, sparing no expense on details.
Hearing “work,” Thurston breathed a sigh of relief. Good, he wasn’t chasing his ex- wife; otherwise, Thurston might have been dragged into the mess again.
For the next hour, Thurston sat there chattering about irrelevant topics, eventually offering to introduce Kingsley to someone new, terrified he might get the wrong idea and go back to his old flame.
When Thurston finally paused for breath, Kingsley, pushed to his limit, grabbed his
coat and walked out, not bothering to spare him another glance.
Leaving the office, Kingsley went straight to Sherwood Manor.
As soon as he entered, he saw Susan sitting in the living room. She glanced at him, her tone flat. “You’re back p>
Kingsley looked at her and retorted coolly, “Rare to see you at home p>
“I have no money to spend, so naturally, I stay home,” Susan said, lifting her slender hand to admire her fresh manicure, her voice airy and nonchalant.
“If you have no money, go work and earn it,” Kingsley said, blunt and direct.
Susan chuckled lightly and looked up at him. “Mr. Winston Sherwood’s wife working for a living inher middle age? Aren’t you afraid people will laugh at you if word gets out p>
“No. If they laugh, they’re laughing at Mr. Winston Sherwood,” Kingsley replied
coldly, offering no further explanation.
Susan changed the subject. “I heard you went abroad recently p>
“Tracking my movements?” Kingsley leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes slowly. His voice was emotionless but distant.
Susan curled her lips, speaking
casually. “That girl from the Mason family couldn’t reach you, so she called me instead.” She took a sip of her flower tea and added. “She support herself, but you’re still paying her way. Yet you complain about supporting me p>