Forced Into Marriage: My Husband’s Too Mean novel Chapter 682

Behind Quentin, the secretary that originally sat outside Zayn’s office door to answer the phone and organize documents looked worriedly at Quentin, whose chest was heaving violently as he propped both hands on the table.

"Quentin," The secretary spoke cautiously. Her voice was a little hoarse and she tugged on Quentin's sleeve. "Are you alright?"

Quentin shook his head. The two of them were the only ones left in the conference room. When he recalled the eyes of those directors who looked at him like they wanted to eat him alive just now, he suddenly felt that it was laughable and outrageous.

There was also a feeling of deep sorrow that was hard to ignore.

These directors, who had dividends that ordinary people might not even earn in a lifetime, did not even care to offer any condolences for Zayn. On the contrary, the secretary behind him, who only took a meager monthly salary, repeatedly became red-eyed at the mention of Zayn’s name.

It was true that greedy people had no humanity.

The secretary looked at Quentin's disheveled back and could not help but feel her nose tingle. She asked, "Quentin, what should we do now?"

Those directors’ eyes just now were too frightening.

The man with his back to her suddenly turned around and hugged the secretary's slender body.

"I'm sorry." Quentin's voice was suppressed and broken as he said, "I don’t mean to offend you...I just need a moment...please let me lean on you for a while..." After saying that, he gently buried his head on the secretary's shoulder.

The secretary was startled by his sudden action. She felt the man's warm breath through her thin white shirt and somehow forgot to push this man, who used to look so playful, away. It was probably because Quentin looked too serious when he was sad.

Who said that men should not cry? Everyone would shed tears when things got unbearable.

Quentin was more than ten centimeters taller than the secretary, so such a position was not very comfortable. However, he could not help but crouch on that slender shoulder for a long, long time.

There was no one else for him to lean on, whether it was the boy who protected him when they were young, or the old man who smiled and asked him if he wanted to follow him home, or the man who made him settle down when he grew up.

They had protected him so that he could live a carefree and playful life. These people steered his life for him so that he knew which direction to head towards without having to think about it.

However, no one told him what he should do after losing these people.

The warm and wet feeling on her shoulder was self-evident that the secretary reached out and gently wrapped her arms around Quentin while lightly and slowly patting his back.

In the distance, many homes and apartments were lit up, but there was a group of journalists squatting at the main entrance of Denarius who wanted to get the latest news. In the noisy and vibrant night, only this large and empty conference room was quiet.

The next morning at 8:00 am.

After one night of squatting at the Denarius entrance, those reporters either left or felt that there was no material they could get from here, so they moved on to other places, leaving only a small group of them downstairs. They were all tired and dispirited after standing guard all night as they waited for possible news.

These reporters were inevitably lax after one sleepless night, so when Lindsey came down from the car, many of them thought that she was just one of Denarius' employees. Finally, someone in the crowd got a good look at the man following behind Lindsey and pushed up his glasses as he cursed. "That’s Shaun Juhl!"

This was like a sudden boost of energy to the depressed journalists, and all of them instantly came back to life.

After that, someone recognized Lindsey and his eyes lit up. "That’s Zayn Guggenheim's ex-wife, Lindsey Juhl! I knew I could get something big here! I didn't wait for nothing!"

"What is she doing here at this time? Does she want to get a cut of Zayn's inheritance? But aren't the two of them already divorced?"

"Who knows? Quickly, quickly! She’s coming! Let’s hurry over and ask!"

“Since the death of Mr. Guggenheim, I heard that Denarius would soon be acquired by another company. Ms. Juhl, are you here to discuss this matter?”

"......"

The reporters were like quacking ducks bombarding Lindsey with a flurry of questions. Lindsey was forced to stop in her tracks, her body swayed because of the crowd's constant pushing, but she stood firm.

Everyone's mouths were opening and closing, and their words were like venom in her ears, yet she could not avoid them.

Shaun stretched out his arm around Lindsey, trying to protect her, but it was no use. These reporters were like sharks who smelled blood. Their eyes glowed with hunger.

They even asked harsher and meaner questions.

"Did you cause Zayn Guggenheim's death?"

"Ms. Juhl, will you give a statement?"

"When Mr. Guggenheim got divorced with you, rumor has it that he gave you a lot of money. Don’t you think you’re a bit much for fighting for a cut at this time?"

"Do you think it's appropriate for you to come here now? Zayn Guggenheim's body is not even cold yet, don't you feel guilty, Ms. Juhl?"

Each question was like a knife that stabbed into Lindsey’s heart.

Lindsey's face was glum. Shaun took a deep breath. He was really worried if she could withstand all this pressure and felt like whisking Lindsey away from these people.