It Doesn’t Matter Anymore novel Chapter 12

Chapter 12

After dealing with Sylvia, Greyson took a late-night flight to Miami.

He used all his connections, even reaching out to those circles of ‘second-generation heirs’ he had always despised.

Three days later, there was finally news.

“Mr. Debeaux, we’ve found her. Ms. Nosciter… is currently living at Riverfront Heights in Miami. That’s Jerico’s private residence.”

The subordinate paused, his voice tightening, “And tomorrow night, the Langely family will be holding an engagement banquet at the Ritz- Carlton. The bride-to-be… is Ms. Nosciter.”

Engagement.

Those two words struck Greyson’s knees like bullets.

Jerico.

The man who had saved Allison during the mudslide, the all-powerful head of the Langely family in Miami, ruthless and indifferent to women-except for Allison.

How could his Allison be marrying someone else so soon?

No! Impossible! She loved him, she had loved him for a full ten years!

Greyson dashed out of the club like a madman, got into a borrowed car, floored the accelerator, and sped straight to Riverfront Heights.

But it was a high-security gated community; he couldn’t get in at all.

He waited at the entrance all night, smoking three packs of cigarettes.

It wasn’t until the next evening that a black Rolls-Royce slowly drove out of the main gate.

The window was half-lowered, and Greyson immediately spotted the figure in the back seat.

Allison.

She wore a champagne-colored haute couture gown, her hair elegantly pinned up, revealing a slender, fair neck. She held an invitation in her hand, tilting her head to speak to the man beside her, a faint, relaxed smile on her lips.

It was a smile of ease, of being cherished.

And the man beside her, dressed in a perfectly tailored dark gray suit, exuded noble aloofness. He was lowering his head to adjust her dress, his gaze so gentle it seemed to drip with tenderness.

It was Jerico.

“Allison!”

Greyson roared, threw away his cigarette, and rushed forward recklessly, blocking the car’s path.

A screech of brakes pierced the air.

Greyson’s vision went black, his fingers turning white from gripping so hard, nearly digging into the car window.

“I don’t believe it… You love me… You loved me for ten years…”

Jerico sneered coldly and pressed the window button.

“Drive.”

The window closed mercilessly, cutting off Greyson’s desperate gaze.

The Rolls-Royce sped away, leaving only exhaust in its wake.

Greyson stood where he was, watching the taillights disappear into the traffic.

“Allison!”

He shouted as he chased after the car for a few steps, but then fell heavily to the ground.

His knee was scraped, blood seeping out.

But he felt no pain.

Because the gaping hole in his heart was letting in a cold wind, hurting so much he wanted to die.