Chapter: 455
Perhaps because he was born out of wedlock.
His very existence was seen as a mistake from the very beginning.
In the middle of the night, a black Cayenne eased into the underground parking lot of the hotel, temporary home to the
Cloudwater Town film crew.
“We’ve arrived, sir,” the driver announced, glancing at Tyrone’s resting form reflected in the rearview mirror.
“Okay,” Tyrone murmured, his eyelids remaining shuttered, his form suggesting sleep.
Detecting the strong scent of alcohol in the car, the driver hesitated, unsure whether to persist in reminding him.
Two minutes later, a shift in the back seat broke the silence.
Tyrone, blinking lazily, rummaged in his pockets and took out his phone, dialing a number.
The ringing echoed momentarily before a surprised woman’s voice greeted him. “Tyrone? It’s really you!”
“I’m at the parking lot of your hotel.”
After Tyrone had sent bodyguards to keep an eye on her, Galilea knew that he would not spoil her anymore.
No longer could she force him into meeting her using her life as a bargaining chip. Instead, she had to film while awaiting her
next chance.
She didn’t anticipate him coming to her in the dead of night just two days after she resumed work.
“I’ll be right down!” Galilea exclaimed, the sleepiness evaporating from her voice.
With a sense of urgency, she stood up promptly, intending to change into a new outfit. However, before proceeding, she had a
sudden realization. Walking up to the mirror, she carefully assessed her reflection.
Her long hair was in disarray from just waking up, and her eyes showed signs of lingering drowsiness. Her chosen attire for sleep
was a floral slip nightdress, with the hemline reaching her thighs.
After a moment’s consideration, she slicked on some lipstick, threw on a short coat from her closet, grabbed her room key, and
headed out.
“Tyrone!” she called in the underground parking, her voice echoing in the hush.
Tyrone looked out from the car window, stepping out as she approached.
“Why didn’t you come up?” Galilea inquired with surprise. “I thought you’d never see me again. Did you drink? Would you like to
come up for some coffee?”
“No. I’m here to tell you something,” Tyrone retorted, leaning against the car in the dimly lit garage, his expression masked by
shadows.
“What is it?” Galilea inquired, a gnawing sense of unease tugging at her.
“You need to leave. I’ll arrange for you to go overseas. Don’t return.”
“Tyrone, what did you say?” Galilea asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.