That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate.
The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life
Rejected No More: I Am Way Out Of Your League, Darling!
My Coldhearted Ex Demands A Remarriage
Pampered By The Ruthless Underground Boss
His Unwanted Wife, The World's Coveted Genius
The Unwanted Wife's Unexpected Comeback
The Warlord's Lovely Prize
Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine
Celestial Queen: Revenge Is Sweet When You're A Zillionaire Heiress
"I think I might be falling for you, Officer Harding."
Timothy glanced at his phone calendar and replied, "Hmm, not bad. Only two weeks later than I expected."
Then it fell into silence.
It took me a long time to realize I had feelings for Timothy.
Thinking back to our first meeting, he was the police officer, and I was the complainant.
It all started because I kept receiving sexually harassing calls for over half a month.
Initially, I didn't pay much attention to it, considering the variety of spam calls these days. But as time went on, these calls increased from two or three a day to seven or eight, mostly at night. The voices on the other end were lewd and disgusting, making it impossible to sleep.
Unable to bear it any longer, I decided to report it to the police and let them handle it.
The police were impressively efficient. Within two days, they had results, before which I have only taken a few calls to inquire about the situation.
"This is the IP address and the sender's account we found, "
the officer said, handing me a piece of paper.
"This account posted on a website, leaving your phone number, Miss Reynolds."
I was all too familiar with this IP address, which was from Kellan Barnett's house. The account ID was often used by Kylee Morrison, his girlfriend.
They didn't even bother to hide it well.
I wanted to laugh. Such a foolish opponent was able to seduce and steal my boyfriend right under my nose.
I, a top student from a prestigious university, lost to such an inferior rival!
"Miss Reynolds... Miss Reynolds... "
Snapping back to reality, I realized the officer in front of me wasn't the one who took my case at the station that day. This one seemed even more handsome, and even with a mask on, his good looks were evident.
All the handsome ones seemed to end up in public service!
His name was written on the left chest of his uniform—Timothy Harding.
"Officer, I want to report that they leaked my personal information."
His good looks only distracted me momentarily.
"What are you reporting? Who are they?"
"They're my ex-boyfriend and his current girlfriend. This IP is from his house, and the account is his girlfriend's."
Officer Harding glanced at me, his eyes filled with sympathy.
Suddenly, I felt like I had seen those eyes somewhere before.
"Officer Harding, don't pity me. You should congratulate me for getting rid of the scumbag and bitch, uh, I mean, for getting rid of them."
Timothy's eyelid twitched, and a mischievous smile appeared on his lips. "You're in a good state of mind."
The air conditioning in the police station was so strong, I almost forgot the scorching summer outside. As I opened the door, a wave of heat mixed with humidity hit me.
It was already late afternoon, and the sun hadn't set yet. I stood by the roadside with my parasol, watching the rush-hour traffic.
At this time, I didn't expect to catch a cab. But where should I go to kill time?
A white motorcycle approached from my right. Instinctively, I stepped back, but the motorcycle stopped right in front of me.
Such bikes were usually equipped for rich and handsome guys in TV dramas, and I also heard its noisy roar in the office. These memories left me with a bad impression of motorcycles.
However, when the rider took off his helmet and smiled at me, my perspective changed.
"Officer Harding, your bike is really cool."
Timothy was in casual clothes, a white T-shirt and black jeans, shedding the seriousness and adding a bit of roguish charm.
"Where to? I'll give you a ride."
"No need to trouble yourself, Officer Harding."
"Serving the citizens is no trouble at all." He said earnestly, then flashed a vibrant smile at me, the sunset casting a glow that made him look like a young boy.
His smile was so captivating that I stepped forward, took the helmet, and got on the motorcycle.
"Thank you, Officer Harding."
"Hold on tight, don't let go."
The bike roared to life, and instinctively, I reached out to hold Timothy's waist, feeling his body tense up suddenly.
Once the ride steadied, I let go, searching for something else to hold onto. But as soon as I released my grip, the bike accelerated, and I leaned back due to inertia. In fear, I wrapped my arms around Timothy, pressing my chest against his back.
Though he seemed awkward, he didn't pry my hands away.
Back home, I stared at the note Timothy handed me before leaving, lost in thought.
Was it now so easy to obtain a police officer's number and social media account?
I entered the account ID from the note letter by letter and clicked search. A profile named "Timothy" popped up.
Half an hour later.
The system sent an notice that Timothy accepted my friend request.
I said, "Thank you for taking me home, Officer Harding."
He said, "You're welcome."
I was curious, and clicked on his social media feeds, but found that he only showed posts from the last three days. Even the background image was the default one.
No discoveries there.
Regarding Kylee's malicious posts, the police, after obtaining solid evidence, imposed administrative penalties on the parties involved, and they deleted the posts as required. I was quite satisfied with this outcome.
Sure enough, the wicked would be punished!
Timothy called to inform me of the result just before the end of the workday.
As soon as I got off work, I hummed a tune and headed to the mall next to the office building to shop and munch. When I got tired of shopping, I just ate and ate.
With my mood lifted, my appetite followed suit. I ordered dish after dish, and when I was feeling a bit stuffed, there was still half a table of food yet to be enjoyed.
I had overestimated myself.
I quietly asked the waiter and was told that dishes already served couldn't be returned.
Every meal was hard-earned, wasting food was shameful!
A sudden idea struck me, and I snapped a picture of the table, posting it on social media.
"Looking for dining companions, several needed, Golden Eagle Mall, Fifth Floor, Yummy Restaurant."
Twenty minutes later, someone followed the post and showed up.
"Are you Sarah Reynolds?"