The next second, the call was connected.
"Ms. Yellen, what happened?" Zayn sounded a little tired.
"Mr... Mr. Mitchell, your car has a tracker installed in it. Get another car! It's the first time I've called him, and I'm so nervous that I almost called him honey.
"Mr. Mitchell, there is indeed a car following us. I'll get some cars over right now." His agent's anxious voice came from the other end of the line.
"Thank you for your reminder, Ms. Yellen. I'll be back tomorrow." This time, it was Zayn's voice.
"You're... you're welcome." My ears turned red and I immediately hung up.
His last sentence was just like an ordinary husband reporting to his wife, which made me restless.
Zayn didn't know that his contract wife was a loyal fan of his for fifteen years.
Thinking of Zayn's tired voice, I became even angrier. My husband was so tired, but he was still tortured by his crazy fans.
The more I thought about it, the angrier I became.
I, the eldest daughter of the Yellen family, couldn't swallow it. I decided to confront them.
Hence, I immediately got in my Ferrari.
Sure enough, on the way to Zayn's Hotel, I saw a car following them.
I called the police and followed the private car.