Chapter 220
Maynard froze for a moment when he got the call-Mrs. Langford needed the car?
He hurriedly left the office and drove to the Langford family’s suburban estate. Xenia greeted him at the door and let him in.
Without wasting a second, Maynard headed straight to the garage, only to find himself hesitating at the rows of luxury cars.
This was the first time Mrs. Langford had ever asked him to drive her anywhere. She always drove herself before, but Maynard had seen the news-her Ferrari had been in an accident. Since then, she hadn’t touched it.
He scanned the glittering lineup, deliberating. In the end, his gaze landed on the gold Rolls-Royce Ghost. After all, Mr. Langford had publicly acknowledged her status. She couldn’t show up at The Langford Group in anything less than impressive, and Maynard certainly didn’t dare take any chances.
Downstairs at Quantum Core Technologies, people were already whispering and craning their necks, wondering what kind of scene Victoria would cause this time.
But when Maynard pulled up in that gold Ghost, stepped out, and opened the back door with the poise of a consummate English butler-bowing ever so slightly to shield her head with his hand-everyone fell silent. “Ma’am, your car is ready,” he said with impeccable courtesy.
Maynard glanced at Ailie. “Is this lady a friend of yours, ma’am?”
Ailie’s lips twitched into a grin that was almost uncontrollable-she looked like she
was about to burst with glee. “Yes, I’m a friend of your Mrs. Langford.”
She practically skipped to the car, waving cheekily at Violet. “See you, Ms. Marchand. We’re off!”
Victoria slid into the car first, and as McNeil watched from his own vehicle, he saw Maynard pull up right in front of her. Maynard, for his part, had already noticed McNeil’s car, but since McNeil was inside, there was no need to go over and say hello.
The executives from Quantum Core Technologies stared at the gold Ghost. In Starfall City, luxury cars were a dime a dozen, but what truly stunned them was the license plate: a string of identical eights, perfectly sequential.
In Starfall City, you couldn’t buy a plate like that, no matter how much money you had. Only the most powerful people in the city-maybe just a handful could get their hands on one. According to rumor, there weren’t more than a few such plates in the entire city.
Suddenly, everyone looked unsettled. Victoria’s background seemed even more mysterious—and now it was clear she had her own chauffeur, a strikingly handsome one at that, with the air and manners of someone professionally trained.
Curtis was floored. Was this really Victoria’s usual ride? And the way the chauffeur addressed her as “ma’am” made Curtis deeply uncomfortable. Hadn’t Ailie said Victoria was getting divorced? Why would her driver call her “ma’am” if she was splitting up? Maybe the divorce was only Victoria’s idea, and her husband wasn’t on board.
Curtis didn’t recognize Maynard. As McNeil’s private assistant, Maynard was in charge of confidential matters and business between McNeil and Victoria. McNeil never brought him to social gatherings or introduced him to friends.
In fact, Maynard was the only outsider who knew McNeil and Victoria were married.
But Maynard did know Violet, and Violet knew him.
So when Maynard spotted Violet-and, by extension, guessed that Mr. Langford was in the nearby car-he offered Violet a polite nod, then slipped into the driver’s seat.
Inside the Maybach, McNeil gripped the steering wheel, his face dark with frustration.
Violet, aware that Maynard had always been McNeil’s right-hand man, was surprised to see Victoria giving him orders so naturally.
She’d been hoping to watch Victoria stumble, but instead, Victoria had stolen the show.
And when Maynard looked at her, there was none of the deference he showed Victoria. Just a curt nod-what was that supposed to mean?
He called Victoria “ma’am,” but couldn’t even manage a proper “Ms. Marchand” for her?