Warren Prescott had already reached the elevator when he turned around and noticed Rosalind Lynch still standing outside the booth in a daze.
He called out in confusion, "Rosalind?"
Rosalind Lynch snapped back to reality and quickly jogged over to Warren Prescott’s side.
Their booth was on the fourth floor, and while waiting for the elevator, Rosalind Lynch several times mustered the courage to ask something, but the words ended up stuck in her throat.
Only after stepping out of the elevator did Rosalind Lynch finally gather enough courage.
"Warren."
Warren Prescott glanced back, the dazzling lights of the KTV lobby reflected in his eyes, unable to conceal the weariness beneath them.
Rosalind Lynch suddenly realized that in these years she hadn’t been by his side, Warren Prescott had subtly changed.
He was no longer the Warren she could talk to without reservations; there were many things about him she couldn’t understand.
Instinctively, Rosalind Lynch changed her approach: "You seem very tired today?"
"Yes, a bit. I’m sorry, I’ll take you out to have fun another day."
"It’s okay." Rosalind Lynch smiled understandingly and swallowed all the questions she wanted to ask.
She had to hold back and not act too hastily.
The more anxious she got, the more she would only push him further away.
Reflecting on the past days, she indeed had been a little too eager.
However, when Rosalind Lynch got into the car, Warren Prescott did not follow her in but instead grabbed the car door with one hand and instructed the driver, "Take Rosalind home, drive carefully."
"Yes, Young Master." The driver promptly replied.
Rosalind Lynch finally couldn’t help but ask, "Warren, did I do something wrong today?"
"No, you didn’t do anything wrong."
"Then you..."
"I drank a bit too much, wanted to get some fresh air and then go home myself, you go ahead."
Drank too much?
Clearly, he only lost once, only had one drink.
He was skilled at dice games; with the dice cup in his hand, he could pretty much tell what numbers he would roll.
So how could he have drunk too much?
Rosalind Lynch felt a bit aggrieved.
She felt that the whole day had been a disaster.
Still, she forced a smile and nodded, saying, "Alright, then send me a message when you get home."
"Okay."
Warren Prescott shut the car door with a "bang" and watched the car drive away.
As the car merged into traffic, Warren Prescott pulled out a cigarette and was about to light it when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a sleepy figure behind the convenience store’s glass door.
His eyelid twitched slightly.
Hector Alden’s words suddenly flashed through his mind.
"That stubborn girl refused to sell to us and immediately took out her phone to call the police."
"That girl looked young, but she’s quite tough."
"Why don’t you talk to the shop owner and get her fired, Warren?"
The person Hector Alden mentioned overlapped with the one in front of him.
For some reason, he felt a bit annoyed.
He flicked the cigarette he hadn’t even taken a puff from into the gutter and walked toward the convenience store.
...
"Ding-dong——"
The automatic door chimed.
Ashley Shaw lifted her heavy eyelids and automatically began, "Welcome to..."
The next moment, the word "our" got stuck in her throat when she saw who had come in.
Her eyes behind the black-framed glasses abruptly widened.
Warren Prescott...
Her sleepiness vanished instantly, and she instinctively moved the book next to her under the counter.
She didn’t even know why she did it, but her body reacted faster than her mind.
Warren Prescott seemed not to notice her action, stepping over to stand in front of the counter.
Ashley Shaw, a bit nervous, clenched her fists, her palms unknowingly covered with a thin layer of sweat.
She didn’t know why Warren Prescott was here, but she was scared inside, afraid that a single word from him would ruin the job she had fought hard to secure.
Warren Prescott saw through her tension instantly.
What was she so nervous about?
Nervous that he would take Hector Alden’s side?
Regardless, wasn’t she his sister in name?
Compared to that, who was Hector Alden?
Is that how she saw him?
Warren Prescott suddenly felt a little angry, and the words he spoke almost escaped his lips uncontrollably—
"I thought you’d at least be living well after leaving home, but it turns out you’ve ended up like this?"
"Working here late at night, does it honor the grandfather who thought you were living happily?"
"Ashley Shaw, is this all the ambition you have?"
Ashley Shaw’s lips were a bit pale from being pressed tightly together.
But after a moment, she suddenly let out a small laugh and looked into Warren Prescott’s eyes with a question.
"What kind of life do you think I’m living?"
"I’m not stealing or robbing; I’m earning money through my own efforts. Is that utterly unambitious?"
"I don’t want to be like you, born into a position of privilege, do I?"
"Warren Prescott, Young Master Prescott, not everyone is born with a silver spoon like you. Some people work the jobs you look down upon just to get a decent meal. But why do you look down on us?"
Ashley Shaw finished her long string of words in one breath, leaving her feeling almost short of oxygen, her breathing slightly labored.
Once her breathing gradually stabilized, she finally realized: she might have said too much today.
If she annoyed this privileged young master, it would be her who’d suffer.
So suddenly, Ashley Shaw added, "I’m sorry if I said anything that upset you, don’t take it to heart. Just pretend I was talking nonsense."
Warren Prescott opened his mouth, then closed it again, feeling a profound sense of powerlessness.
What exactly was he doing?
Those weren’t the words he wanted to say at all.
"Ding-dong——"
The automatic door of the convenience store chimed again.
Ashley Shaw instinctively put on a professional smile.
"Welcome to..."
Once again, the word "our" got stuck in her throat because Ashley Shaw saw the fat guy who had been causing trouble earlier enter.
The fat guy frowned slightly and was just about to speak, but upon seeing Warren Prescott, his eyes widened in an instant.
Delight almost spilled out of his eyes.
The newcomer was Hector Alden.
He had been drinking a bit too much earlier and had bet with everyone that he would make that stubborn girl at the convenience store beg for mercy today.
Who would’ve thought that he would see Warren Prescott here?
He had always been keen on currying favor with Warren Prescott, assuming that he wasn’t even considered someone significant. But who would’ve thought he actually came here to back him up?
How could he not be pleased by this?
"Warren?!"
Before Warren Prescott could speak, Hector Alden strode over in two quick steps, pointing at Ashley Shaw’s nose and saying, "Warren, it’s her. She refused to sell cigarettes to us. You should fire her right away!"
As soon as Hector Alden spoke, he suddenly felt the surrounding temperature drop sharply.
Before he could react to what was happening, Warren Prescott’s fist landed squarely on his nose.
In an instant, blood gushed from his nose.
Hector Alden clutched his nose, his eyes filled with shock and fear.
What...had he done to provoke Warren?
The few people who came in after him happened to witness the scene and didn’t dare to come forward.
"Warren..."
It was Hector Alden who broke the silence first.
He haphazardly wiped the blood off his face, seemingly unfazed by the pain, once again showing that sycophantic smile.
"Warren, did I say something wrong..."
Thump!
Warren Prescott lifted a foot and directly kicked him over.