How to Train Your Ex-Billionaire novel Chapter 121

Winifred sat alone at the playground for what felt like hours, a deep chill settling into her bones. Finally, she stood up, ready to head back.

She pulled out her phone to check the time, only to find the screen dark. It must have died at some point.

It had only been on one bar when she left the house, so it was no surprise.

The winter sky was already dimming; it was probably only five or six o'clock.

As Winifred started walking, the biting wind cut through her clothes, feeling like it was freezing her solid.

She remembered that the clothes she’d left at Yvan’s place weren’t very warm. She decided to swing by her old apartment to grab some warmer things before going back to Pinehill Residences, Unit 1.

Standing downstairs at her old building, she felt a sudden urge to turn and run.

The red paint on her door… it probably hadn't been cleaned off yet.

She instinctively flinched from facing that mess again.

Even though the words scrawled on her door were slander, rumors were powerful. Anyone who didn't know the truth would see it and immediately judge her.

But some things just had to be faced.

Yvan had casually mentioned that morning that he would take care of it, and in her panic, she hadn't objected. But thinking about it now, she knew it was her mess to clean up. She shouldn't have burdened him with it.

Winifred pulled on a mask and drew her hood up, hiding her face as much as possible.

She was terrified of running into someone she knew, of having to expose her vulnerability to them.

Keeping her head down, she quickly climbed the stairs to the sixth floor.

Thankfully, she didn't encounter anyone along the way.

When she reached her floor, she was stunned to see that the red paint on her door was completely gone.

The door had been repainted, and even the stray splatters on the wall had been meticulously cleaned away.

The entire doorway was spotless, as if the ugly scene from the morning had just been a bad dream.

Winifred was amazed at how quickly Yvan had acted.

Yvan spun the steering wheel, heading toward her neighborhood.

When he got there, he raced up the stairs and knocked on her door for a long time, but there was no answer.

He was certain she wasn't there. If she were, she would have come to the door no matter what.

Now genuinely panicked, Yvan threw caution to the wind and dialed Mr. Perez.

"Mr. Perez, Winifred is missing. Can you have your people check the security footage and see where she went?"

Mr. Perez was taken aback. Missing? That couldn't be right; all the hospital troublemakers' accomplices had been caught. After Yvan explained the situation, he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yvan, Winifred is a grown woman, not a three-year-old. You haven't been able to reach her for three hours, there's no need to be so dramatic. Her phone probably just died."

Yvan knew that logically, but he couldn't shake the worry. He urged Mr. Perez to hurry up and check.

Mr. Perez sighed, giving in. "Alright, alright, I'll have someone look into it right away. But you've been out for an hour or two yourself. Have you checked back at your place? Maybe she's already home."