Meanwhile, at the Porter residence.
"Track her down at this address
"Hurry up!"
Madam Porter stared at the address flashing on her phone's GPS, her voice trembling with urgency as she urged the taxi driver.
"Faster, please!" With the old patriarch refusing to intervene, her only hope now was Mr. Porter.
But she knew all too well.
Mr. Porter wouldn't answer her calls—she had to confront him in person.
Thankfully, she had installed a tracker on his phone earlier.
"Ma'am, this is a taxi, not a private jet," the driver grumbled, though he bit back his irritation at the sight of her obviously expensive attire.
"Even if I wanted to speed, these traffic lights won't let me."
"I'll pay extra."
Without hesitation, she pulled out a thick wad of cash from her purse and tossed it onto the passenger seat.
"Is this enough?"
"More than enough, more than enough!"
The driver's eyes lit up, his impatience vanishing in an instant.
