Overwhelmed by the Billionaire’s Persistent Pursuit

Chapter 12: The rain poured so heavily that the streets appeared shrouded in fog. A strong wind swept across the area, and the world seemed engulfed in mist. A limited-edition black Bentley was parked by the side of the road, not far from the Harman family's house. "Why are we here?" one of the men in the back asked quietly. The man's silhouette looked lonely yet proud under the dim lighting. "I found the girl from the other night. Her name is Candice Blake," Raul Hinks said cautiously as he observed the man's reaction.

He continued, his tone helpless, "I booked Suite 8308 for you, but you went into the wrong suite. The Harman family was holding a wedding at the Crowne Hotel that night, and they reserved Suite 8307 for the bride and groom. They own Harman Pharma, remember? The groom was Greyson Harman, our classmate from high school. He was in the same dormitory as you back then." A sudden silence filled the car. The air felt suffocating. The man narrowed his eyes, veins bulging on the back of his hands. He struggled to suppress his emotions.

So, he had gone into the wrong suite and slept with Greyson's newlywed wife? Candice. A nice name indeed. His breath caught as he recalled that night. No wonder she was repulsed by his advances, especially when he couldn't control himself. No wonder she refused his money, which had been returned to his bank account. "The Harman family's house is right there. Looks like the matter has been blown out of proportion. Let's wait and see what happens," Raul suggested with a helpless shrug. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Raul spoke again, "Are you-" really going to solve this with money?

If she wanted money, she would have accepted it that day..." The man looked indifferent as he replied, "I will give her all the money she wants to last the rest of her life. Then we can call it quits." Raul coughed. Money was not everything. He had a hunch that the man's plan would not go well. Lᴀtєѕt chαptєrs ιn glnovєl.о "Hey, it seems like she got driven out of the Harman family," Raul exclaimed suddenly, pointing to someone walking in the heavy rain. He was right. The man saw a woman dragging her suitcase along the road in the pouring rain, allowing the rain to drench her.

The night was too dark. Her head was lowered, and they couldn't see her face clearly. Candice looked vulnerable and helpless, as if the wind could sweep her away at any moment. The rain was so heavy that she couldn't see the road ahead. Suddenly, a black umbrella sheltered her from the rain. She was stunned and turned around to see a person in a black uniform holding the umbrella. Candice glanced around and saw an expensive, limited-edition Bentley parked some distance away. It did not fit the surroundings at all. She guessed the man in uniform was the chauffeur of the Bentley.

"Are you Miss Candice Blake? Regarding what happened the other night... My boss says he hopes to compensate you for any inconvenience he caused. You can name a price, and we will transfer the money to you right away. Also, my boss asked if you took a contraceptive pill after that night. If not, we have prepared some for you. You can still take it since it hasn't been 72 hours." The chauffeur handed her a box of contraceptives respectfully. Candice was confused for a moment before realizing this man must be the chauffeur of the man who barged into her suite on the wedding night.

She sneered, "Why didn't he come to me himself? Is it possible that... he doesn't have the courage to?" Then she ignored the chauffeur and shoved his hands away. The umbrella and the medicine slipped from his hands. The rain poured heavily as she stormed off toward the Bentley. Her makeup was ruined by the rain, and her hair was soaked. When she reached the car, she knocked firmly on the dark window. The man had ruined her life without reason and made her miserable. Did he think she could sweep everything under the rug with some money? Dream on.

There was a moment of silence after Candice knocked on the window. Then, the window rolled down. . . .