Chapter 705

Tyler took another slow sip of wine.

"Looks like you're not entirely stupid after all."

Rachel kept her eyes fixed on him, a chill running down her spine. Suddenly, this man felt terrifying. Just how much more was he hiding from her?

"Tyler, what else do you know about me? Why don't you just tell me everything at once?"

She felt like she was squeezing toothpaste out of a tube–bit by bit, never the whole truth.

Tyler lounged back in his chair, tapping his long fingers lightly against the table. His sharp, calculating eyes were fixed on Rachel, openly, without restraint.

"I can, but I have one condition."

Rachel instantly guessed what he meant.

"You want me to write that letter your friend asked for, don't you?"

"Yeah." Tyler didn't deny it.

"Fine, let's get it over with."

He forwarded something from his phone to hers. Rachel glanced at the content and frowned.

"In such a rush?"

"His girlfriend might not have much time, just in case. And since I have to travel tomorrow, better to handle it quickly."

Tyler slid pen and paper in front of her before she could refuse. Since it wasn’t much text anyway, Rachel simply picked up the pen and started writing.

When she finished, she handed the sheet to him.

"Why don't you write it yourself? Our handwriting's practically the same, isn't it?"

"You don't need to worry about that."

Tyler took the paper from her hand and studied it intently.

Rachel, meanwhile, picked up a skewer of baby potatoes, chewing away, puzzled at what exactly he was looking for.

After a few minutes, his gaze darkened. There was a knowing smile on his face.

He folded the sheet neatly.

"If his friend's girlfriend sees this, she'll definitely be happy."

Rachel wiped her mouth.

"Still, I think it's more meaningful if he writes it himself, don't you?"

Tyler replied vaguely, "He doesn't know how to write in this style. Otherwise, he would've done it already. His girlfriend really likes this style. She even tried to learn it herself, but she has never been able to capture its essence."

Rachel felt a pang of sympathy, but even more than that, envy.

"Your friend is really good to his wife. Men like that are rare these days. I've read about some who seem devoted on the surface, but the moment their wife falls ill, they start blaming her and avoiding responsibility. They say they're broke and swear they'd sell everything to save her, but secretly, they're moving their assets elsewhere."

Tyler understood what she was getting at. He reached over and pinched her cheek.

"Don't worry about that. If you were ever sick, I'd never do such a thing. If you're still worried, I could transfer all my assets to your name right now."

Rachel shook her head quickly.

"No need for that. I was just making a point."

It wasn't like she'd ever rely on Tyler's money to save her life anyway. But for most ordinary people, money really was life–saving.

At critical moments, people couldn't always be trusted, but money was tangible and would always be there.

That was why, after leaving William, she had finally figured things out. Love, family, and friendship could all leave her someday or even betray her, but money never would.

Tyler glanced at his watch.

"Alright, you've had enough to drink."