The Girlboss Begs For Remarriage

As Frank strode out of Lane Manor, he turned to look at the place he lived at for three years.

He had come here all alone and now left empty-handed.

Just then, a Rolls-Royce sped toward him from a distance, stopping just beside him.

The door opened, and a middle-aged man dressed sharply in a suit alighted, grinning broadly as he jogged up to Frank. “Mr. Lawrence…” “What are you doing here?” Frank asked as he stared at the man—he was Trevor Zurich, the CEO of Trevor International.

“I’ve recently partnered with your wife for a development project in West City, and I’ve come to discuss the details with her,” Trevor admitted.

Frank nodded but said, “There’s no need for a discussion—Helen now has the Wesley family’s backing and doesn’t need ours, and she’s no longer my wife.” “What?!” Trevor exclaimed, flabbergasted. “What’s going on?” “Helen and I got divorced,” Frank admitted. “From now on, there’s no connection between myself and the Lanes.” Then, turning toward Trevor and gently clapping him on the shoulder, Frank said, “Thanks for your help over the last three years, brother.” While Trevor’s business was mostly based abroad, he was asked to return to support the Lanes and basically earned zero profit over that period of time.

Even so, Trevor promptly bowed his head and said, “No, Mr. Lawrence—it’s my honor to work in your service… that said, why would Ms. Lane suddenly divorce you? Is the Wesley boy responsible for this?” Frowning, Trevor clapped himself on the chest and declared, “In that case, I’ll personally visit Ms. Lane and talk things out with her.” Over the last three years, the only reason he partnered with Lane Holdings was because Frank asked. The Lanes were so far beneath him that they did not even deserve to lick his boots, let alone his partnership!

How shortsighted Helen was, divorcing Lawrence just because her company went public!

Nonetheless, Frank shook his head. “Forget it. Helen and I are divorced—we have nothing to do with each other now. You can go if there’s nothing else.” Trevor smacked himself on the forehead as he remembered. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you. Remember the wonderroot you asked me to find?

Turnbulls. There’s no way they’re selling it,” Trevor replied, though his tone soon changed sharply. “However, I’ve also caught wind that Walter Turnbull’s only daughter was afflicted with a terrible illness five years ago, and she doesn’t have long to live. The good news is that she’s here in Riverton, and if you help her, Mr. Lawrence, the wonderroot would definitely be yours.” Frank narrowed his eyes—he really needed the wonderroot, especially after that fight at

way to restore himself

he

gaze flashing sharply, Frank asked, “I take it that you’ve discussed the

Walter Turnbull himself promised the wonderroot should his daughter be treated, along with any other condition you care to state.” Frank clasped his hands behind his back and did not press the issue. “In that case, let’s pay the

younger brother—promptly alighted

your discussion with my sister, Mr. Zurich?” Peter

“Hmph.” Trevor shot him a look and snorted in

left—there was no need to play nice with the Lanes now that Frank and

who was left wondering how he had upset

gaping as Trevor’s Rolls-Royce sped past him, unable to believe what

Frank doing in Trevor’s car?! What

Helen was sitting in her study,

said he would be visiting just this morning,

ask.” “No,” Helen replied. “He never specified a time, so we should wait.” “But the West City project is so important,” Gina complained. “You need to be more proactive here—just call him!” While

made

mild and her tone polite. “Hello, Mr. Zurich. I was just wondering what time you are coming by? I would like to be on hand to receive you.” “Actually, Ms. Lane, I’m