NovelOnlineElvis snapped back to reality first, his feelings towards Fitch a mix of indifference and a lack of appreciation.
Was it wrong to be a shrewd and detached businessman? It didn't seem like a mistake.
"Mr. Haskins, hand over Ozzy to me. Zoey trustedto take care of him."
Fitch was holding the little pooch, sizing Elvis up with a few glances.
"How cyou have her keys?"
A man having a key to a woman's place, with both of them being single, was bound to raise eyebrows.
Elvis couldn't help but let out a chuckle before firing back a question.
"Mr. Haskins, | wonder in what capacity you are askingthis."
The atmosphere in the room froze over, as if coated in a frosty layer.
Holding Ozzy, Fitch was indifferent.
"Leave."
Elvis didn't move, but soon he heard footsteps at the door—the sound of security hurrying over.
Going head-to-head with someone like Fitch was a losing game.
Knowing better, Elvis left and waited outside, only to find that it had started to rain.
Without an umbrella, he retreated to his car.
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Half an hour later, he saw a few people leave the complex. The lights at the gate, blurred by the rainy night, flickered dimly.
Fitch, holding a black umbrella and Ozzy in one arm, strode towards his limited edition luxury car.
His towering height made him stand out even in front of his bodyguards, his trench coat giving off a vibe of solitary detachment.
At his car, Fitch bent down to place Ozzy inside before folding the umbrella and handing it off to a bodyguard, who respectfully took
it and assumed the driver's role.
Fitch settled into his car, closing the door behind him, sealing out the damp, earthy smell of rain.
The inside of the car was warm. Ozzy, full and sleepy, sprawled on the leather seat.
Fitch cradled him, gently touching his belly.
The puppy, cozy and comfortable, dozed off.
A little silly.
The driver couldn't help but ask, "Sir, are we heading straight home?"
Usually, at this time, Fitch would still be at the office, working overtime.
Today, he had left early to chere.
"Yeah."
Fitch's tone was lazy, soon interrupted by his ringing phone.
He glanced at the screen—it was Maja calling, probably about the dog. He muted the call, choosing not to answer.
Ozzy continued to sleep soundly in his arms.
Fitch turned to look out the window, lost in thought.
Meanwhile, at Greenfield Gardens, dinner was served course by course.
Maja had just woken up when Elvis told her that Fitch had gone to Zoey's place.
What was he playing at now?
Was it because Zoey was in jail that he suddenly felt guilty and wanted to take care of the dog?
But why should he decide to do so on a whim?
Maja tried calling him. No answer. So she called again.
Still no answer.
Annoyance throbbed at her temples. Beck immediately took her phone.
"Eat first, Maja. What did | tell you? Sometimes you can't get in the middle of two people's business. With Carol, now Zoey. Unless
they ask for help, and they haven't. They're adults. They know the consequences of their choices."
Maja looked at the spread of dishes with no appetite. lan was unreachable, and her friends were in trouble one by one.
But she forced herself to eat.
After dinner, she asked Beck again.
"Beck, can you check with the prison again? Ask if Zoey really doesn't want to see me. If she wants out, I'll get her a lawyer right
away."
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Beck rubbed his temples, feeling more hassles since returning to Greenfield. Maja's eyes were rimmed with dark circles.
He made the call, but the response was swift—Zoey still refused visitors.
Maja understood then. Zoey had made up her mind.
She felt both angry and helpless.
On the other side, Fitch, fresh from a shower, noticed something on his bedside table.
The bedroom filled with the soft barking of a puppy. He scooped up Ozzy into the doggy bed beside him.
The next morning, he drove to the civil affairs office.
Thanks to the Haskins family influence, he obtained two marriage certificates.
Holding them, he glanced down.
The previous night's visit to Zoey's wasn't just about Ozzy; he also brought back her driver license and others.
Now, they were legally husband and wife.
He thought for a moment and decided to send one of the marriage certificates to Zoey in jail through his people.
But they returned shortly.
"Mr. Haskins, Miss Zoey isn't seeing anyone."
Not seeing anyone?
It made sense; she must feel wronged.
He figured a little coaxing when she got out would do the trick.
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