She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 228: Cheyenne, I've Seen You a Long TAgo Oh my god! If those people knew they spent three hundred million to kill a delicate young woman, he wondered what their expressions would be like.

With a task to finish, Jerry stayed up again.

When his roommates were all asleep, he used a flashlight in his mouth and placed his computer under the covers. His eyes were fixed on the screen of code while his fingers moved quickly and rhythmically or the keyboard like a robot.

He struggled to keep his heavy eyelids open for fear of making mistakes due to drowsiness.

In the dark night, handsmen always stay up late.

After hanging up the phone, Cheyenne took a comfortable shower and slept well because Kelvin had been bothering her for three days straight without giving her much rest at all.

On the snight, under the light of a full moon, the reflection of a solitary and slender man could be seen on the floor-to-ceiling window. The cool breeze weaved through his white robe, lifting one corner of his bathrobe as he stood by the window, arms crossed.

His deep-set eyes stared at the faint yellow lights outside for a long time. Cigarette butts littered the floor by his feet, an empty beer bottle rolled to the door, making a faint noise in his ears.

Omari never knew that getting drunk could be such a difficult thing.

The more he tried to forget, the more he remembered what happened that day.

Cheyenne was in a drowsy state; she seemed to hear the vibration of her phone.

She opened her sleepy eyes and reached out her delicate and slender hand to pick up her phone. Beep beep...

A series of faint and sporadic noises sounded in her ears, a hoarse and magnetic male voice tinged with a hint of drunkenness said, "Cheyenne." This voice was soft.

"Cheyenne." Cheyenne was a bit sleepy, but upon hearing this voice, she instantly becmore awake. She sat up, holding the blanket, furrowing her brows, and let out a silent yawn.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you callingin the middle of the night? Is there something important you've discovered?" The alarm clock on the table showed it was 2:30 in the middle of the night. At this hour, he should have been asleep.

As an elite, Omari led a disciplined life. No eating after 9 PM, sleep before 11 PM, and waking up promptly at 6:30 AM. His suit and shoes were always a matching set, down to his choice of tie and cufflinks. Given his routine, it was unlikely for him to call her at such late night unless there was something important going on.

"Cheyenne, why?" The person on the other end hiccupped, his voice slurred. Cheyenne was momentarily confused.

Is he drunk? "What do you mean 'why'?" "Hic, why him instead of me?" Him? What was Omari talking about? Cheyenne's half-awake mind was completely thrown off by his words. She opened her lips slightly and asked helplessly, "Are you drunk?" "I am," he replied with a hint of sadness in his voice. “It doesn't taste good." "Are you alone?" "Yeah... alone." Why did it sound like he was feeling sorry for himself? Cheyenne could only go along with what he said and advised him gently, "If it doesn't taste good, then don't drink it anymore; just go to bed early." Omari worked as a bartender part-time, so she knew that he had quite a high tolerance for alcohol and wouldn't easily get drunk like this unless he drank quite a bit.

But what could have made him so upset like this? She hadn't heard anything about his romantic or career setbacks recently either...

Through the phone line cCheyenne's stern yet caring voice which reached Omari's ears clearly despite all that alcohol in his system.

Cheyenne really did care about him after all...

That day she had just been set up by someone else; nothing more than that.

Omari fell onto his soft cool bed while moonlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting silver light onto his handspale face. His charming eyes were slightly open but red.

His long eyelashes half-closed as he stared straight out into tree branches outside where leaves turned into shining silver-white under moonlight The man's red lips slowly curled upwards while dimples appeared.

After stpassed when Cheyenne decided she would sleep now, Omari's voice suddenly reached her ears.

"Cheyenne, do you remember when we first met?" The first tthey met... Cheyenne rubbed her throbbing head and closed her beautiful eyes. The silver moonlight spilled onto her fair shoulders.

Her strap was half-drooping, revealing a fair and delicate skin that contrasted with the chestnut curly Pher.

hair behind her. Her almond eyes stared at the sky outside the window.

Suddenly, she laughed. "I remember! You're the one who madea laughingstock in front of everyone in school!" "No," Omari suddenly seemed to wake up. He turned on the bedside lamp and took out a yellowed notebook from his cabinet.

The sound of flipping pages was as pleasant as a stream singing under moonlight.

He found it.

His slender fingers rubbed against the yellowing handwriting on it. The date recorded above was February 23rd, 2014 - sunny with clouds.

"Omari, what are you saying? I don't understand you. Are you sure you're not drunk? Go to bed early; I'm tired too." She yawned twice while speaking, tears rolling down from her eyes onto the blanket.

"Cheyenne, I saw you in 2014 under a bridge..." Under a bridge?

Cheyenne's drowsiness vanished instantly as she stood up barefoot and walked to the floor-to-ceilingn windows before pulling open its curtains with a "whoosh.” The world outside was pitch-black and quiet enough for only her heartbeats and Omari's voice to be heard clearly. "You... What did you say? That bridge... How do you know about it?" She hadn't told anyone about this incident before - not even Kate knew that she almost died under that bridge years ago.

Everyone asked why she liked Kelvin so much; but it was because he had given her sof the mos£beautiful tenderness when everyone else had abandoned her. That back view took eight years for Cheyenne to finally look away from.