Divorce, Please: The Young Master Does Not Love Me

Ian Shaw feigned surprise and smiled. "Oh, is that so? Tristan and I are thick as thieves, too."

"Mhm, I know," Jasmine Warren said with an ingratiating smile, nodding repeatedly.

"I feel like I’ve seen you before... no, wait. I saw you a while ago. You were trying to pull President Summers into a car to leave." Ian Shaw narrowed his eyes, studying Jasmine Warren’s face intently, as if afraid he’d miss a single change in her expression.

Sure enough, just as he expected, Jasmine Warren froze the moment she heard him. The smile on her face stiffened. After several seconds, she forced an extremely awkward smile and said, "Oh, that time. I needed to talk to Mika about something, which is why I was trying to pull her into the car."

"Mm, that night was very dangerous. But I believe you. I believe no one would ever want to hurt their own best friend. Wouldn’t you agree, Jasmine?"

The smile never left Ian Shaw’s face, and his words were exceptionally warm and gentle. But to Jasmine Warren’s ears, they sent a chill through her entire body.

She looked up at Ian Shaw, her eyes filled with a trace of panic.

’What does he mean by that? Why did it sound like a threat?’

Ian Shaw’s tone was soft, as if he were speaking to an old friend. "How long have you been working here?"

"Oh, almost two weeks."

’Almost two weeks? So, the same amount of time as me? No wonder I didn’t see her name on the employee roster.’

"Mhm."

Ian Shaw nodded and smiled. "It’s getting late. Time to clock out. Come on, I’ll give you a ride home." As he spoke, he stood up, walked over to Jasmine Warren, and grabbed her arm in a way that brooked no refusal, leading her out of the office.

Jasmine Warren was still processing what was happening as Ian Shaw led her all the way out of the office and to the elevators.

It wasn’t until they were inside the elevator that she snapped out of it. "Um, President Shaw, I haven’t gotten my bag yet. I need to go back for it. Why don’t you go ahead? I can just get a cab later."

Ian Shaw’s eyes narrowed into slits as he smiled and nodded. "All right."

For some reason, even though Ian Shaw had agreed to let her go back for her bag, she still felt a sense of dread.

Shaking off her thoughts, she jogged back to get her bag. The moment she was gone, Ian Shaw quickly turned and headed to the other end of the hallway.

Ian Shaw took the stairs, heading up. Although this was already the top floor of the company, there was a small surveillance room of about a hundred square feet above it, which monitored the top floor specifically.

Besides Mika Summers, Tristan Grayson, and Ian Shaw, no one else had a key.

He unlocked the door and went inside. He immediately saw several computers on the desk, their screens displaying surveillance feeds of the work area.

Ian Shaw pulled out a chair, sat down, and took out his phone, leisurely dialing Tristan Grayson.

The phone rang for a few seconds before it was answered. "What’s up?" Tristan Grayson’s two cold words came from the other end.

He sounded as if he were talking to a complete stranger.

Hearing Tristan Grayson’s punch-worthy tone, Ian Shaw was tempted to just hang up and not bother with their problems.

"Talk!" When Ian Shaw didn’t respond, Tristan Grayson’s voice grew noticeably more impatient.

"Tristan Grayson, you heartless bastard. I’m over here holding down the fort for you guys, and you’re all off living it up like you’re retired."

Hearing Ian Shaw complain just like he always did, Tristan Grayson frowned and retorted impatiently, "When you get married, we’ll give you a month of honeymoon leave, too. But..." At this, Tristan seemed to think of something amusing and chuckled. "I doubt you’ll ever find a wife in this lifetime. You’re just jealous of me. Jealous I’m married, jealous I have a wife, and jealous I’ve got a daughter on the way now. Ah, well, what can you do? Even if you are jealous, you’ll never surpass me in this life." As he spoke, Tristan, in a very good mood, wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist.

"Tristan Grayson, don’t you get so damn smug! It’s not that I can’t get married, it’s that I don’t want to! And another thing!! Who told you your wife is having a daughter? It’s been like, what, a few damn days? Stop your damn gloating! I’m telling you, don’t come crying to me when you have a son!!!"

"Even if I do have a son, I’m still doing better than you. Look at you! Who knows when your son will even show up."

"Screw you!" Ian Shaw cursed angrily and hung up. But just then, he saw a woman rummaging through things in Mika Summers’s office and suddenly remembered why he had called Tristan Grayson in the first place.

He cursed Tristan Grayson again in his head before redialing. This time, he didn’t wait for Tristan to speak and went straight to the point, afraid that if they exchanged two more sentences, they’d just start arguing again and he’d forget the important stuff. "Tristan Grayson, stop your damn nonsense. Listen, I have something serious to discuss with you. Do you remember Jasmine Warren? She’s somehow managed to infiltrate Sovereign, and I’m worried she’s up to no good and might harm the company."

"What did you say?" After Ian Shaw finished his rapid-fire explanation, a woman’s incredulous voice suddenly came through the phone.

Ian Shaw didn’t even have to guess; he knew it was Mika Summers.

His expression darkened, and his laid-back tone was replaced by a stern one. "Mika, since you heard, we won’t hide it from you. This Jasmine Warren is not a good person. She’s in your office right now, searching for something. I’m calling tonight to ask for your opinion. Should we call the police?"

On the other end, hearing the words "call the police," Mika became agitated and said hurriedly, "Don’t call the police yet. No matter what, we’ve been friends for so many years. I don’t believe she would ever harm me."

The moment she finished, the temperature of Ian Shaw’s expression dropped a few degrees. "So you don’t believe me?" ’She doesn’t believe Jasmine would harm her, which means she doubts my word?’

Fortunately, Mika reacted quickly, her tone turning pleading and anxious. "No, that’s not it! You’re Tristan’s best friend, how could I not believe you? Ian, please, just don’t call the police tonight. Tristan and I are coming back right now. I’ll be at work tomorrow morning. I want to handle this myself."

Ian Shaw frowned, staring at the monitor for a moment before nodding. "Fine. I won’t alert her tonight. But you don’t have any important documents in your office, do you?"

"No, I keep all the important files locked up. Unless she manages to pick my lock." The last sentence was tinged with self-mockery.