Chapter 137: Chapter 137

Celestial Queen: Revenge Is Sweet When You’re A Zillionaire HeiressWords: 2681

Chapter 137:

He leaned forward slightly, his advice laced with concern.

“Matteo is combing the planet for you.

Exercise caution.”

Kareem placed the milk down and stood up slowly, pausing to give Harlee a comforting smile and a few words of reassurance before heading out.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it. Your secrets are safe with me. Remain enigmatic and cloak your true self. Let no one peel back that mask.

And concerning Matteo, engage only when you have absolute certainty. Maintain your guise as the owner of Janessa Studio.”

The revelation that Kareem was aware of her role at Janessa Studio sent a ripple of alarm through Harlee. Yet, amidst the shock, a warm current of familial affection swelled within her.

“Appreciate the warning, Kareem. I’ll be vigilant.” With a nod to her alias, she assured him, “And should you ever require my aid, do not hesitate to call.”

Kareem lingered on the staircase, his lips curved into a tranquil smile.

“I won’t hold back.”

After Kareem departed, Harlee wandered into the kitchen, casually searching for something to nibble on as though the earlier events had faded into oblivion. She rummaged through the cabinets, which were full of ingredients that all demanded some degree of preparation.

Resigning herself to simplicity, she grabbed a bag of sliced bread and a glass of milk.

Just as she was about to ascend the stairs, the sound of the door creaking open halted her.

It was Brenton, returning from a rescheduled meeting late into the night.

Every chapter lives on g a lno vels ; comm

Catching a glimpse of the clock, Harlee noted it was nearly 5:00 a.m.

As Brenton entered, his eyes landed on Harlee.

“Have you just woken up, or are you yet to sleep?”

Harlee gestured nonchalantly.

“Just a little peckish.” It was only then that Brenton noticed the bread and milk she held, his brow furrowing in disapproval.

“Is that all you’re having?”

His gaze bore a hint of disgust, as though Harlee clutched something foul rather than food.

“Just couldn’t muster the energy to cook.” Harlee shrugged and then turned the conversation back to him.

“Brenton, what kept you out so late? Any trouble at the company?”

Brenton shook his head dismissively.

“Nothing but a late international meeting.”

“Feeling hungry?” Harlee brandished a slice of bread, offering it with a casual flourish.

“Care to join me?” Brenton was about to decline when he felt a pang of hunger. Yet, the thought of settling for plain bread didn’t appeal to him.

“How about spaghetti instead?”

Harlee looked puzzled for a moment.

Brenton continued, “I could make us some spaghetti.”

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