Chapter 889

Chapter 889:

As Evita pondered her predicament, her phone buzzed with a text.

“Two hundred thousand dollars can get you a meeting with your father.”

Her breath caught, excitement surging through her.

Her father had been detained for half a year, and every attempt to see him had failed.

Now, finally, there was a chance.

But where on earth would she find that kind of money?

Evita’s mind immediately turned to Andrew.

Her grip on her phone tightened.

“What’s wrong?” her friend asked, noticing Evita’s sudden shift in demeanor.

“I’ve got a chance to see my father, but I don’t have the money…” Evita said, biting her lip.

After a pause, she added quietly, “Maybe I can only turn to Andrew.”

Her friend blinked in shock.

“Are you serious? Andrew has a girlfriend!”

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“I don’t have another choice.”

“But don’t you own tons of luxury items? You could sell those and probably gather enough cash…”

“Those won’t get me far,” Evita cut her off, her voice sharp.

Her friend stared at her, speechless.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that Evita wasn’t as helpless as she portrayed herself to be.

In fact, there was an almost eager glint in her eye.

“Oh well,” she thought, deciding not to bother with Evita anymore. But still, a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if Andrew might actually be swayed by her.

Madisyn was dropped off at home by Andrew, only to spot Waylon leaning against the door, a cigarette dangling lazily from his fingers.

Andrew didn’t hesitate; he strode over and snatched it right out of Waylon’s hand.

“Hey, why did you take my cigarette? Oh, wait—Madisyn’s back, too?” Waylon’s grumbling stopped short when he caught sight of his sister.

His irritated expression softened into something guilty, almost sheepish.

Everyone knew Glenn had a strict no-smoking rule. Not only was it harmful to the smoker’s health, but it also risked exposing the whole family to secondhand smoke.

Smoking outside the house was Waylon’s only option to avoid getting caught.

“Madisyn, is something bothering you?” she asked gently, her voice probing yet soft.

Waylon sighed, leaning against the wall with a tired expression.

“Yeah… there is.”

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