Chapter 8 Accosted By A Playboy

"Mr. Sanderson, I have your car keys and all the necessary documents ready for you." Milena returned within half an hour, carrying a hefty stack of paperwork.

The swiftness of the Aston Martin dealership was indeed notable; at a standard dealership, this process might have dragged on for days.

"Thank you," Conor said as he took the keys and paperwork, nodding in acknowledgment and making his way to the exit.

As Conor began to leave, Milena felt a rush of urgency.

Over her years at the dealership, she had never met someone as wealthy and attractive as him.

Determined not to let the chance slip by, Milena called out, "Um... Mr. Sanderson."

"Yes? Is there something else?"

Conor paused and turned, looking intrigued at Milena approaching him.

Milena's cheeks were tinged with red, and she extended a business card with both hands.

"Here's my card. Should you need any assistance in the future, please don't hesitate to contact me."

As Conor took the card, he noticed Milena's fingers subtly caressing his palm.

He responded with a mild smile.

Apparently, having money really did make a difference. Women who never gave him a second glance before were now acting like he was the center of their world.

Money indeed wielded influence.

Still, women like Milena never managed to catch his interest in the slightest.

Once outside, he nonchalantly discarded the business card in a trash bin.

Just as he was about to set off in his new car, his phone buzzed with a message from Kyra. "Conor, I got off work early today. I'm just going to change before heading out."

"Great, where should I pick you up?"

"I'm at Riverbend Flats."

"Got it."

Despite it being nearly five o'clock, Conor found the traffic surprisingly manageable.

Maybe it had something to do with the upper hand his money gave him.

He had noticed that few cars dared to drive too close to him, fearing an accidental collision.

Conor reached Riverbend Flats in just twenty minutes.

The neighborhood was characterized by its age, with narrow streets where local vendors sold vegetables and snacks, giving it the feel of a bustling market.

Upon arrival, Conor stopped at the entrance to the alley and phoned Kyra.

"Are you ready? It's too packed for me to drive in. I'm parked by the entrance to Riverbend Flats. You can see me as soon as you walk out."

"Alright, I'm leaving now. I'll be there in just a few minutes."

Eventually, Kyra made her way out the door, the click of her heels echoing with each step.

She could have met Conor directly after work, but considering their previous connection and the significance of this meeting, she chose to freshen up.

Wearing light makeup, eyeshadow, and a touch of lipstick, she exuded a unique charm.

Kyra's role as a sales associate at a high-end store like Gucci was no coincidence.

Such establishments often prioritize aesthetic appeal over professional qualifications because customer impressions are primarily visual.

Her striking features and her height of five feet six inches, enhanced by her heels, made her a standout beauty.

From a distance, there was no denying Kyra's stunning appearance.

She had on a teal lace dress that slipped off her shoulders, showing just enough to highlight their softness, and the way it framed her made her look effortlessly stunning.

Her long hair flowed down her back, moving softly with the wind, reminiscent of an ethereal being gracing the earth.

A chic purse dangled from her shoulder.

Her presence invariably caught the attention of onlookers.

She walked briskly toward the alley entrance, unsure what kind of car Conor would drive to pick her up, but considering his ability to buy such expensive clothes in one go, it surely wouldn't be cheap.

...

At that moment, a Mercedes was stationed at the alley's entry.

The driver, a young local, kept a watchful eye on the surroundings.

Since he was from the area, he understood that most people around here were actually from somewhere else, and those who rented in this neighborhood usually didn't have much to their name. So if he managed to catch the eye of a pretty girl, he figured that his flashy and luxurious car, paired with his decent appearance, would be more than enough to win her over.

This approach had previously worked wonders for him.

His attention fixed on Kyra as she emerged from the alley, his interest piqued immediately.

With the onset of early summer, Kyra increased her pace, a slight perspiration visible on her forehead. Her hair, slightly clinging to her skin, lent her an additional charm.

"Wow, a girl that stunning living in this place? I can't believe she's been under the radar all this time!"

The young man quickly fixed his hair using the rearview mirror, then eased his Mercedes forward to intercept her.

"Excuse me, gorgeous. Any chance you know the way to this place?" he asked, flashing a grin he clearly believed would win her over.

Kyra mistook him for Conor at first but soon realized that he was a stranger.

With a faint crease in her brow, she turned away without a word and kept walking, giving him no attention at all.

Flabbergasted, the young man watched her go.

Could he really have been disregarded just like that?

With resolve, he stepped out of his car and pursued her.

"Hey, no need to walk away so fast. I promise I'm not one of the bad guys."

Kyra only grew more skeptical of him.

Wasn't his persistence alone enough to question his intentions?

She stopped and faced him directly, her tone firm. "I'm sorry, I have a date waiting. Please, don't follow me."

However, he positioned himself in front of her, grinning confidently. "Funny enough, I'm supposed to be on a date too. And I'm quite sure it's with you."

With all his years of being a playboy, he'd grown used to rejection and hardly took it to heart anymore.

How else would he manage to persist in the face of frequent brush-offs?

Kyra gave him a dismissive eye roll.

His approach was utterly offensive.

What made him think such clichéd lines would work?

"Look, I'm really in a hurry. Could you please get out of the way?"

The young man didn't try to stop her again. Rather, he simply fell into step a short distance behind her.

To anyone passing by, they might have looked like a couple.

Just as Kyra thought of how to rid herself of him, the sound of a high-performance engine filled the air.

An Aston Martin abruptly stopped beside her, its presence unmistakable.