Chapter 368: Chapter 368: I’m Just Looking at the Stars

"You talk too much."

Walker Grant kept his eyes fixed on the building ahead, his tone exceptionally cold.

Nathaniel Monroe sighed. "Walker, is it that you don’t actually want to divorce her? If so, you should just go and tell her that."

"I wasn’t looking at her."

Walker Grant finally withdrew his gaze, his expression grim. "I was just looking at the stars."

Nathaniel Monroe rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Walker, even a dog wouldn’t believe that lie."

Walker Grant had been standing here ever since Preston Vance entered the apartment building—a full five hours!

Even Nathaniel was getting tired!

And who knew what was going on with that Vance guy? He’d been in there for so long!

’They aren’t even that close. What could they possibly have to talk about?’

Nathaniel Monroe really didn’t like the look of that Vance guy.

Walker Grant said, "Has your sister found what I’m looking for abroad?"

Nathaniel Monroe sighed. "No news. She’s gone off the grid again. I can’t reach her."

Hearing this, Walker Grant frowned slightly.

’Losing contact meant she was in an extremely dangerous place, one that required utmost caution to avoid discovery. Naturally, that meant she couldn’t casually contact anyone on the outside.’

Just then, the door of the apartment building ahead opened, and Preston Vance’s figure emerged.

Nathaniel Monroe’s eyes lit up. "Walker, he’s out. Let’s go."

Walker Grant shot him a dark, cold look.

Nathaniel Monroe rubbed his nose and gave him a sheepish grin.

Preston Vance took a side path straight home, oblivious to the two men watching him.

Walker Grant withdrew his gaze. Just then, his phone rang.

He took it out and saw it was a call from Dylan Finch.

"Hello?"

Dylan Finch said, "Mr. Grant, two things. First, I went to the place where we last had a trace of the young madam. It was completely empty. I couldn’t find any new clues; I’m sorry for my failure. Second, the person who stole your wife’s bag today has been found. Do you want to see him?"

"Yes. Where?"

"An abandoned factory in the suburbs."

"..."

The night was thick and still.

Chloe Reed had just showered and was about to get into bed when her phone rang.

She glanced at the screen and immediately declined the call.

But the caller was relentless and immediately called back.

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she answered anyway. "What is it?"

"Come down."

Walker Grant’s voice was just as cold, and seemed to be laced with a hint of impatience.

Chloe Reed let out a soft laugh. "If you need something, just say it."

Walker Grant’s tone was flat. "I’ve caught the person who stole your bag. I’m about to go question him about who put him up to it. I think you should be there, so you don’t think I arranged the whole thing."

Then, his tone took on a mocking edge. "What’s the matter? Scared to see me?"

Chloe Reed scoffed. "What are you, a devil?"

With that, she hung up, changed her clothes, and went downstairs.

Walker Grant stood not far away, dressed in a black shirt and matching trousers. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, faintly revealing the line of his collarbones.

His features were sharp and handsome, but his expression was placid, as if nothing in the world interested him.

An image of a photo of him and Julian Grant flashed through Chloe Reed’s mind—the image of a flamboyant, unrestrained youth.

’He’s changed so much.’

She gathered her thoughts and walked toward him.

Seeing her approach, Walker Grant turned and started walking away. His back was straight and broad, exuding an aura of cold detachment.

Chloe Reed asked, "What were you doing here?"