The Woman From Hell

Theo darted a glance at me and pulled out his phone t o call his assistant. "Keith, come to West Mountain's ring road to drive a car back."

He wore a dark countenance the whole way back and did not say a word. My anxiety allowed me to ignore the fact that he was angry, and I said, "Theo, if there really was a secondary car accident, there might still b e traces of evidence at the scene."

After a very long time, he finally said, "I figured out the same thing. I checked it carefully earlier but didn't find any trace of evidence."

My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. Was I supposed to watch Cecilia go to jail and not do anything about it? No. I could not stand doing such a thing.

Theo looked at me and after a very long time, he said," Don't get too anxious yet. I'll introduce you to someone later."

"Are we going to see Cecilia?” I leaped up from my seat. I had no interest in anything else besides seeing her.

"What could possibly change after you see her?" he looked at me and asked mildly.

"I don’t know, but what else can I do? Help me, Theo. I can't watch her go to jail. I wouldn't be able to live with it." I was panicking, my voice choked up.

He stretched out a hand and patted my shoulder, saying, "That's enough. This isn't the end yet, so don’t get too upset or anxious. You've always been so calm and composed. What's up with you nowadays?"

He had been really patient with coaxing me throughout the journey, but my mind was still fraught. My emotions had hit their lowest point.

His car soon came to a halt at Grant Corporation’s mall. "Come down and pick some clothes."

I glanced at the main entrance of the mall and said listlessly, "I’m not in the mood for shopping."

Sure enough, the tactics that men used were almost always the same, coaxing women by taking them shopping.

“I said I’d introduce you to someone. If you still want t o save Cecilia, hurry up and come down." His voice was slightly cold. Having said that, he walked into the mall without sparing me another glance.

Wait a minute... Did he mean we were going to meet someone who had a way to rescue Cecilia?

"Theo, wait up.” I quickly got out of the car and chased after him.

He stopped in his tracks, waiting for me. A hint of a smile subconsciously appeared on his lips.

He pulled my hand and took me straight to the fifth floor, where all the international brands were sold. As soon as he went up, there was a commotion. Darn Theo's good looks and aura. He always became the center of attention wherever he went.

The shopkeepers and shoppers' eyes lit up when they saw him, whispering amongst themselves.

With my hand in his, I received numerous unfriendly stares. I instinctively tried to retract my hand.

Theo turned back to look at me curiously and finally noticed the stares around him. His mesmerizing face sank slightly, exuding a cold aura. He then fished his phone out of his pocket and made a phone call.

"Mr. Schuler, I intend to shop on the fifth floor, and I need you here to clear the place." Having said that, he pulled me into a lounge.

Soon, a bunch of bodyguards appeared on the fifth floor to clear the place out. In less than 10 minutes, the entire fifth floor was cleared aside from a few shopping guides.

He finally stood up and said, "Come, let's go pick out your clothes.”

I blushed with shame. Chasing customers away was something that perhaps only Theo could and would do.

At the store, Theo gave the shopkeeper succinct orders. "Pick out a set of clothes for her. It’s for a social event, but keep it simple."

The shopkeeper and I soon learned what Theo meant b y 'simple' and how not simple his idea of 'simple' was.

The clothes that the shopkeeper picked out were rejected by him one by one. They were either not formal enough, too colorful, or otherwise lacked any other possible quality under the sun.

"You just choose, Theo. I don't want to do this anymore." I had no strength left by the end of things.

In my opinion, all the clothes I had tried on earlier were pretty good. They were simple, low-key, and reserved. They were formal, yet just the right amount o f eye-catching at the same time.

He stood up, picked out a black dress that was particularly conservative and a pair of flats, then handed them to me.

"This?" I was puzzled. How different was this from the one I was currently wearing? Did he not say he was taking me to a formal occasion?

"What's a pregnant woman like you dressing up so nicely for? Go for comfort.” He sounded extremely righteous.

I was speechless. It turned out that his complaints had not been because the clothes were not suitable for me, but because he did not want me to dress up too nicely. Why the heck did he bring me shopping, then?!