She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 326: Mr. Foley, Don't Bully My Cheyenne Omari was about to bid farewell to Cheyenne when he mentioned that he had a company meeting today and had to attend a semi-annual shareholders' meeting for NIGHTBREEZE, his own company.

It wasn't just any regular meeting; it was the semi-annual shareholders' meeting, and Omari, as the CEO of NIGHTBREEZE, had to be there. Before he could speak, Kelvin's cold voice cut in, "How long are you two going to be reluctant to part ways? Tis running out, Cheyenne!" Kelvin fixed his gaze on Cheyenne, and his voice carried a chilling edge.

When Kelvin spoke, he intentionally cast a glance at Omari.

Their eyes locked, and it seemed like there was an unspoken tension building up, with Kelvin's cold demeanor contrasting sharply with Omari's warm, gentle one. One in black, the other in blue, they stood apart but seemed evenly matched, both exuding charisma.

In the end, Omari was the first to break the silence. He smiled gently and said, "Mr. Foley, you sound like you're giving orders. Don't bully my Cheyenne, alright?" The atmosphere was uncomfortable, and neither Cheyenne nor Kelvin said anything. Chris, feeling the awkwardness, forced a smile and said, “Mr. Lara, don't worry; Mr. Foley won't." Omari acted as if he hadn't heard Chris, making his way toward his luxury car. Just before leaving, he turned back and reminded, "Good, I'm heading to work. Cheyenne, givea call when you're done, and I'll pick you up." "Okay." The tone of their conversation resembled a caring husband worried about his wife going out alone to play, showing his attentiveness.

Kelvin's expression darkened further, as he had heard that Omari and the Onistead Weaver family's heiress had been engaged for five years. With the Weaver family's influence, it would be Cheyenne who would suffer in the end.

Did she even know about Omari's engagement? Did she hope Omari would abandon Elsa Weaver, who was both beautiful and had a prestigious family, in favor of her? It was a far-fetched idea.

Kelvin wanted to "remind" Cheyenne of this matter, but her cold and unresponsive demeanor left him feeling frustrated once more, and he couldn't find an opening to bring it up.

So, he decided to let it go for now.

The Foley Mansion...

Upstairs in one of the rooms, loud cries echoed.

It sounded like a woman was crying.

The two of them were startled as they entered the room. Cheyenne quickly looked up and glanced at the room upstairs.

"It's Emelia." Kelvin frowned, his tone filled with annoyance and helplessness as he spoke.

"That explains the screeching." Just then, Emelia walked out of the room, carrying a porcelain cup in her hand, her eyes red and teary. She glared at Cheyenne, surprised and angry.

Cheyenne, on the other hand, walked confidently towards her goal: old Mr. Foley's room, located on the second floor and illuminated by a lamp.

When she passed by Emelia, the latter suddenly extended her foot to block her path, raising her chin arrogantly. "How can you be so shameless? I already told you; the Foley family doesn't welcyou! If it weren't for you, Grandpa wouldn't have had a relapse, and you, the main culprit, still dare to chere?" Upon hearing this, Cheyenne leaned confidently against the railing, her form-fitting black short-sleeved top accentuating her alluring curves.

Her posture resembled that of a seductive enchantress.

Glancing back at someone standing behind her, she spoke in an unusually chilly tone, "Today, Mr. Foley, it was you who invitedhere. Are you just going to stand there and watch the show?" Kelvin hadn't expected her to use him as a shield like this.

In the past, she would have undoubtedly given Emelia a resounding slap to clear her path.

The man approached with long strides, towering over Emelia, his voice deep and angry. "Step aside." "Kelvin, you... Grandpa's illness doesn't require her meddling. Besides, we already have old Mr. Edwards. What use is this girl here for?" Emelia, though reluctant, retreated obediently.

Hearing Emelia's words, Cheyenneraised her eyebrows in apparent confusion and asked, "What's Mr. Edwards?" Suddenly, a nflashed in her mind, that of her Granduncle, and she turned her gaze to the room's door.

The man, with his back turned to her, was wearing a large, 8m all-encompassing backrobe that covered him from head to toe, making him look mysterious and eerie.

From beneath the black robe, a pale, slightly bluish hand reached out, with faint purplish age spots on the back, veins protruding, and a layer of m wrinkled skin that had @grotesque appearance. However, it was this very hand that held a sharp needle that gleamed with cold light. It was held close to a critical acupuncture point on old Mr. Foley's head. The movements were deft and swift, and the distance between the needle's tip and the acupuncture point grew shorter. Adrian, with his back to the others, bore a faint sinister look, and in his dark, brooding eyes, there was an unusual glimmer of amusement.

But the smile didn't reach his eyes, creating an eerie and unsettling atmosphere.

Vincent was also watching intently, his external composure hiding a hidden, frenzied tension.

Cheyenne was well aware of old Mr. Foley's condition, and there was no need to use acupuncture needles on this particular point.

The room was filled with tension, and it was unclear whether the stranger had cto save or harm old Mr. Foley.

As the needle tip touched the old man's scalp, the man turned the needle handle slightly...

"Stop!" A clear and melodious voice rang out from outside the door, and a flying silver needle "clanged" to knock the one in Adrian's hand aside.

The dislodged needle clattered onto the floor, its tip stained with a drop of blood, contrasting sharply against the white floor.

Cheyenne's thrown needle, on the other hand, had pierced into a m bedpost, creating a striking and eerie visual, with the needle handle swaying, creating a subtle sound.