The people around them started gossiping after hearing that.


    Suzanne gripped the painting tightly in her hands and glowered at Wendy. Wendy was truly


    materialistic. She worshiped nothing but money and status.


    However, Suzanne didn’t waver. She held her ground and said firmly, Wendy, your loss has nothing to


    do with me. I drew this for Grandma. You can exin yourself to the cops as to why my work appeared


    here.”


    Wendy paled the moment the police were brought up. She froze, not knowing what to do.


    Just then, a man with a gentle voice interrupted them, “Once this ship sails into the high seas, no


    country’s government nor its authorities has the right to interfere with the transactions made here.”


    Everyone turned to the source of the voice. The person who spoke was a man in his mid-thirties. He


    wore a white suit and a pair of golden-rimmed sses. He carried himself in a sophisticated ar elegant


    air.


    A shiver ran up Suzanne’s spine the moment her gazended on hi handsome face. A wave of anxiety


    enveloped her heart.


    He was a stranger to her. Why was she afraid of him?


    Unsettled, Suzanne took a step backward.


    Wendy, on the other hand, beamed when she saw the man.


    “It’s you, Dr. Hoffis! Did you apany Sally here?” Wendy asked smilingly.


    The doctor, Oliver Hoffis, was polite enough to shake hands with Wendy before telling her, “Yes. Sally’s


    taking a look at the jewelry.”


    “I see,” said Wendy as she turned to look in the direction where the jewelry was disyed.


    After that, Oliver started walking toward Suzanne.


    Suzanne’s breathing turned a little rapid when he approached her. She stared uneasily at the pair of


    piercing eyes underneath the sses and felt her heart jump into her throat.


    “We meet again, Suzanne,” Oliver said, his voice gentle as if he was speaking to a child he pampered.


    “Do we know each other?” Suzanne eximed, shocked.


    Oliver smiled helplessly at her. When he spoke again, his voice was still as soft as ever. “I’m your ex-


    boyfriend, Oliver. Are you purposely pretending not to know me?”


    Her ex-boyfriend? Oliver Hoffis? Suzanne was in so much disbelief that she couldn’t respond.


    She heard that she had dated plenty of men in the past. Who kn that she’d bump into one like this?


    A chance to gossip arose, and Wendy wasn’t the kind of person to such an opportunity slip by. She


    asked, “Dr. Hoffis, did you date Suzanne before this?”


    Oliver’s piercing gaze was still locked on Suzanne when he smiled softly and nodded in response to


    the question.


    Wendy grinned as she teased, “You’re Nathan’s friend, Suzanne’s ex- boyfriend, and also Sally’s


    uncle? How cliché!”


    Suzanne froze. Her hair stood on ends. A whileter, she told Oliver, ” I’m married.”


    Oliver adjusted his sses and smiled softly at her.


    “I know. You’re married to my friend, Nathan,” he said. “I’ll take it as you taking revenge on me.”


    Suzanne shook her head. “No. I lost my memories. I don’t remember


    you.”


    But Oliver didn’t buy it. “I won’t believe such a ridiculous excuse.”


    Wendy was in no mood to listen to them reminisce, so she nned to wait until Suzanne wasn’t


    watching to grab the painting.


    They were so close to each other now. Wendy reached out to grab it, but Suzanne noticed what she


    was doing and put the painting behind her, all the while ring at Wendy.


    “Suzanne, give it to me,” Wendy said. “I don’t want you to ruin it.”


    “It’s not for sale.” Suzanne’s tone was grave.


    Wendy gritted her teeth. She looked like she could eat Suzanne alive.


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    Suddenly, they heard a gunshot, and everyone began to panic. Some started running around while


    others crouched low and covered th heads with their arms to protect themselves.


    Oliver instinctively rushed over to Suzanne and covered her head. They crouched together on the floor.


    Wendy yelped in fright and dropped into a defensive crouch too.


    When Suzanne raised her eyes to scan the surroundings, she caugh a glimpse of a few armed pirates


    walking in from the entrance.


    They wore masks that resembled the faces of animals, and they held rifles of thetest models. Their


    presence was overbearing.


    “If you want to live, you’d better be good by crouching and putting your hands on your heads,” said one


    of the pirates.


    He spoke in Dorzanian, so most of the people on the ship couldn’t understand him.


    One of the women in the crowd stood up hastily. With a trembling voice, she said, “Sorry, I-”