The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 590

At nine-thirty, Jay checked his watch and stepped up to Franco, speaking in a low voice. "I'm heading out to pick up Amy."

Franco gave a curt nod, but his gaze drifted over Jay's eternally stoic face, lingering silently.

"Miss Petty asked me to go," Jay added, his tone utterly flat, completely devoid of emotion. "But it's likely Amy put her up to it."

Franco stared at him, his voice laced with subtle amusement. "Did I ask for an explanation?"

A rare, fleeting look of shock broke across Jay's chiseled features. A second later, his icy composure snapped back into place. Without another word, he turned and marched toward the staff quarters.

He entered his room, yanked open a drawer to grab a set of keys, and headed down to the garage.

The sprawling underground facility housed no less than fifty luxury vehicles, including one car that belonged personally to him, which he rarely drove.

"Heading out, Boss?" The security detail in the garage snapped to attention, treating him with utmost reverence.

It wasn't just because Jay was Franco's right-hand man; it was because Jay was lethally dangerous in a fight.

Despite having the strikingly handsome, clean-cut looks of a movie star, his fists commanded absolute authority.

Every bodyguard in the White family reported directly to him.

Jay offered a brief nod. A guard immediately rushed forward with the keys to his usual company car.

Jay didn't take them. "I'm taking my personal car," he stated.

The guard blinked in surprise. Jay only drove his personal car when handling private matters, and everyone knew the man practically had no private life.

The car smoothly exited Misty Vale, cruising down the winding mountain road lined with towering London plane trees that looked incredibly majestic against the fresh snow.

Before he'd left, Petty had texted him the address. Amy was conducting an interview at the Lansdowne International Center. When he pulled up, the event was still ongoing.

The plaza outside the center was deserted and freezing.

Frowning, he tapped into his contacts, swiping down rapidly before slowing down at the 'A's.

Amy.

Staring at the three letters for two solid seconds, Jay pressed the call button.

Inside the convention hall, Amy and her cameraman were packing up their gear when her colleague called out, "Amy, your phone's buzzing!"

"Oh, right, thanks," Amy replied, carefully placing her microphone into its hard case before rushing over to her handbag.

She yanked the zipper open and pulled out her phone. The caller ID flashed brightly: The Man I Can't Conquer.

Today was a formal corporate summit, so she was dressed impeccably in a black blazer over a crisp white blouse, her hair pulled back into a sleek, elegant low ponytail. She looked professional and sophisticated.

But the moment she saw that name on the screen, she froze. Sucking in a sharp breath, she slammed a hand over her wildly racing heart.