She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 884

By the time the plane touched down in Metropia, Giselle's phone had blown up with notifications. There were over a dozen missed calls, all from Alfie.

Rubbing her eyes, she unlocked the screen to find a flood of desperate texts begging for mercy.

She read through them, then turned to look at the man beside her, who was resting with his eyes closed. "Did you shut down his gym?"

Hank opened his eyes, his expression mild. "If his business was perfectly clean, he wouldn't have anything to worry about from an audit, would he? Or are you planning to plead his case?"

"If you want me to, I can have them back off," he added smoothly. "The choice is yours. Whatever you decide."

He wasn't going to disregard her feelings like he used to. If she truly wanted to help that scumbag, he would grit his teeth and allow it. At most, he'd assign someone to watch the guy 24/7 to ensure he never stepped out of line again.

But Giselle simply shook her head. "Like you said, if he was clean, he wouldn't be scared. You just found his weak spots."

The business-class passengers deplaned first. When Giselle picked up Gigi, Hank casually stepped in to pull her carry-on from the overhead bin. "Where are you heading? I'll give you a ride."

"No need. I'm going to my mom's," Giselle cut him off. "She won't want to see you."

Hank's jaw tightened. "About the past..."

"It's in the past," Giselle said softly. "Don't bother me or my daughter. Consider it a plea."

The words felt like a physical blow to his chest, but he still insisted on walking her out and waiting until she was safely in a cab.

Just before the taxi pulled away, he placed a hand on the edge of the rolled-down window. "Can't you give me one more chance?"

Giselle didn't even look at him. Her expression was completely cold as she rolled the window up.

The cab merged into traffic and disappeared.

Nighttime. Hank sat in his private VIP booth at a high-end club, a glass of whiskey in hand. He was surrounded by a few close friends he had connected with over the past couple of years as he expanded his empire—all heavy hitters in their respective industries.

Morris Lonsdale shuffled his cards, glancing at his brother. "You're down a million already tonight. Where is your head at?"

Jocelyn Kendal, a stunning new player in their elite circle known for her sharp wit and beauty, tossed a card onto the table. "If you keep hemorrhaging cash like this, I'll be able to buy a new mansion by the end of the night."

"I'm just a little lost." Hank took a drag of his cigarette, tossed his cards down, and gave up on the game. "I've got a headache."

"What kind of deal has you this stressed?" Preston teased. "If it's making you pull that face, it must be brutal."

"It's not a deal," Hank muttered.

Preston's eyes gleamed with realization. "Don't tell me it's about that girl from years ago. Come on, man. It's been forever. You need to move on."

"Yeah," Hank nodded. Logically, he knew that. But emotionally, he couldn't let her go.

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