She Became Rich After Divorce

Chapter 525: Respect Me



Chapter 525: Respect Me

Cheyenne was so full, all thanks to the affluent breakfast. She didn't want to waste the food, so she ate it all. And the culprit behind it all was still teasing her with delight.

"Cheyenne, if you marry me and your belly becomes this big when you're pregnant, I will take good care of you and our daughter."

Omari loved baby girls and especially wanted a daughter who looked exactly like Cheyenne. She would be his everything, and he would do anything for her.

But all Cheyenne heard was him mocking her for being fat, and she felt embarrassed.

"Shut up! Since you're done cleaning up, just leave. I'm going to sleep."

She said as she slowly made her way towards the room on the second floor.NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

"Huh? Cheyenne, you're so heartless. I came all the way from Onistead to find you."

Cheyenne pretended not to hear, but before leaving, she didn't forget to tell him, "Take out the trash on your way out, thanks."

Omari was speechless.

...

Suddenly, a refined and handsome young man appeared on the street, attracting the attention of many onlookers. He appeared to be around twenty-five or twenty-six years old, with soft chestnut-colored medium-length hair, half of it tied up in a bun while the other half draped over his shoulder. His fair and flawless complexion, without any blemishes or visible pores, gave him an exceptional charm.

He was dressed in traditional modified clothing with a classical touch. A long linen shirt paired with wide black trousers. A gust of wind lifted a corner of his shirt, revealing a glimpse of his tanned and muscular waist.

However, the cane in the man's hand surprised the onlookers, causing them to shake their heads in pity. It was a shame that such a handsome young man turned out to be blind!

His beautiful eyes, reminiscent of stars, stared blankly ahead, yet everyone could still sense the gentle aura emanating from him.

Benson, with a cane in one hand, carried an adorable yellow duck-themed lunchbox. The aroma of chicken mushroom soup seemed to waft through the air. He had spent a long time learning how to make this soup, and last time, Cheyenne drank two big bowls all by herself.

He wanted to pamper Cheyenne, who had been working tirelessly without rest, so Benson specially made the chicken soup and brought it to her.

With a faint smile on his face, Benson had just arrived at the entrance of Cheyenne's office when the ringtone from his pocket suddenly sounded. It was a sad and lingering piano melody - "Wedding in a Dream."

Benson's footsteps paused, his handsome face showing a touch of contemplation and seriousness. He ultimately gave up on knocking on the door, placed the chicken soup outside Cheyenne's office, and turned to leave.

Inside the office, Cheyenne had just finished seeing a patient. Since winning over Mr. Owen in the previous competition, her reputation had soared. People were starting to come to her for medical treatment. Though the number was still small, it was a good start. It meant that her skills were being recognized by others.

As she heard the brief piano sound outside, she mistakenly thought it was someone passing by and didn't pay much attention. It wasn't until Mr. Owen came to find her, happily carrying a blue thermos cup, tha she realized something was amiss.

"Young lady, you seem to have gotten yourself into quite a bit of trouble with suitors. Does your grandfather know about it?"

Cheyenne rubbed her slightly swollen forehead and leaned back in the chair. She relaxed her body, trying to ease her discomfort.

Upon hearing Kyson's remark, she furrowed her delicate eyebrows and responded softly, "Don't defame my reputation with baseless remarks. I'm currently a bona fide single lady."

Then Kyson placed a thermos on her desk.

"What's this?" She glanced at the cup and chuckled quietly, "Mr. Owen, I can't believe it. You still have such childish moments. Did you steal this thermos from one of your grandsons at kindergarten?"

A slight twitch at the corner of Mr. Owen's lips; he only had Leah as a granddaughter and she was currently single.

"I found this outside your office. Since it's not yours, I'll just drink it myself."

As he sighed and reached for the thermos, Cheyenne took a closer look. Oh my god! This seemed to be Benson's Yes, she remembered. She bought this cute animal-shaped therme's for ten bucks from a street vendor and gave it to Benson as a gift, hoping he would drink more water to take care of his health.

Thinking back to what she had just said, Cheyenne felt a stinging sensation on her face.

While she was lost in her

contemplation, Kyson had opened

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the thermos and deeply savored the aroma of the chicken soup. He nodded appreciatively, "Impressive. You can tell it's carefully made. I don't know who your suitor is, but I'll accept him on your grandfather's behalf."

"Mr. Owen, maybe you should use this time to help your good granddaughter Miss Owen find a suitable husband instead."

"Ouch, that hurt," Mr. Owen responded. He did want to, but unfortunately, Leah just didn't listen to me.

In a secluded corner of the hospital, the corridor was empty, and an icy chill ran from the soles of Benson's feet to the top of his head as soon as he entered.

It dispelled the heat instantly.

Benson pressed the answer button, and the magnetic and gentle voice on the other end suddenly turned as cold as frost. "Who are you?"

A low chuckle came from the other

end of the line. The man had a cigar

in his mouth, was sitting with his legs crossed in a rotating chair, and lightly tapping the table with his index finger in a rhythmic sound.

The sound also reached Benson's ears, as he had keen hearing. In his memory, only one person would make such a gesture.

Glenn! How did he find me?

Glenn spoke first, "Shane, it's been long time. I never expected you, a man of distinction, to forget about me. It seems we've had insufficient communication in these three years."

Benson gripped his white cane tightly, while wondering in his mind: 'Subce Master Glenn already knows his identity, then the man above them will soon notice it.'

"Cut the nonsense. We have no connections. Spill it. What do you want from me?"

The callous and indifferent words truly saddened Master Glenn.


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