Chapter 118
Downstairs, the banquet hall was buzzing while upstairs, however, tranquility reigned.
Merry, puzzled, broke the silence. âDid I just imagine that? It felt like there was someone in this room. What is this place?â
Yates replied, âStorage room.â
Merry called out, âLia, are you in there?â
Cordelia was silent. She had been tucked away here for over twenty minutes, and Everard had taken
advantages of her. But now, she was on the verge of being discovered
glared at Everard, wishing he could just vanish on the spot. Everard, witnessing Cordeliaâs fluster for the first time, couldnât help but let out a low, amused chuckle.
Cordelia shot him a look that could kill, whispering fiercely, âArenât you worried about getting caught?â
Everard chuckled again, the thrill of the moment evident in his voice, âNot in the slightest.â
The look of indignation on the girlâs face, reminiscent of a cat with its fur standing on end, oddly elevated his spirits.
With a comforting pat on her head and a mental effort to suppress his mischievous thoughts, Everard murmured, âIâll distract them.â
Before she could protest, he was out the door, leaving Cordelia to her frazzled thoughts.
Can he really do it?
Just as the thought crossed her mind, she heard Merryâs exclamation from outside, âHey, is that Liaâs boyfriend? What are you doing in the storage room?â
Everard, without missing a beat, replied absentmindedly, âOh, just playing with a kitten.â
Merryâs curiosity was piqued. âA kitten Where? I want to see.â
Everard, blocking the doorway, said nonchalantly, âIt scampered out the window.â
Cordelia was mortified.
Thatâs a feeble excuse, whoâs buying that? And is he trying to hint that sheâs the kitten in this scenario? But to her surprise, Merry bought it. Thatâs a shame. But Yates, I didnât know you had a cat.â
Cordeliaâs heart skipped a beat, fearing their cover was blown.
Outside, Yatesâ piercing gaze shifted from the storage room to Everard. The satisfaction in his eyes were obvious.
Yates tightened his grip on his phone. After a tense five seconds, Yates spoke with a double meaning, âI rather wish that cat belonged to us.â
Merry caught on, âA stray cat, huh?â
Yates didnât reply, simply turned and said, âLetâs head back.â
Though Merry was intimidated by Yates, she reluctantly followed him back to his room. As they entered, Yates. paused, his eyes locking with Everardâs a silent clash.
Everardâs expression was one of cold amusement, a smirk of victory playing upon his lips,
Yatesâ eyes dimmed, his lips pressed into a tighter line.
When the two had retreated into Yatesâ room, Everard finally turned away, his thoughts darkening at the memory of something the young man had said earlier, about how âsheâs probably better off finding a place to
study.â
Everardâs expression hardened. If thatâs the case, then it was time to declare his territory.
Cordelia emerged from the storage room, shooting a glare at Everard before sighing in relief, âLucky there are stray cats around here, or we wouldâve been caught.â
A glint of amusement passed through Everardâs eyes. Sheâs so gullible.
With the party over and night advancing, Cordelia didnât return to Yatesâ room. After texting Merry, she descended the stairs alone.
Everard slipped into the study where Hackett had been awaiting his arrival. Upon seeing him, Hackett snapped to attention, âMr. Watkins!â
Everard nodded slightly before taking a seat, casually starting the conversation, âI saw Yates.â
Hackett stiffened, hastily replying, âHeâs just a foolish boy, incompetent at everything, poor at studies, quick to anger, just wasting his days awayâ¦â
Everardâs gaze grew colder, silencing Hackett, who then pleaded, âMr. Watkins, the Griffin family only has this grandson left. I just want him to live, not expecting any greatness itâs his parentsâ greatest wish.â
Everardâs jaw clenched at the mere mention of âhis parents. After a moment, he said flatly. âIâll pretend I didnât see him.â
Hackett exhaled in relief, his voice choked with gratitude, âThank you.â
The room fell silent once again.
After a while, Everard added in a heavy, cool tone, âIf thereâs trouble, file a report.â
Hackett smiled, relieved. âThereâs no need! Youâve given the Griffin family the Greenmeadow estate. Iâm
old, and with that money, the young brat can squander it all he wants, and itâd still be enough.â
The atmosphere relaxed considerably.
getting
After a brief exchange, Hackett inquired, âAre you here Greenmeadow on some assignment? If the Griffin family can be of help, Iâm at your service.â
Everard waved him off, âIâll be fine.â Pausing, he added, âIâm just here to pursue a girlfriend and take a little break.â
Hackett was speechless. Why showing off to him? Wait, pursuing a girlfriend⦠does that mean he hadnât won her over yet?
After the longâanticipated banquet, the esteemed halls of Greenmeadow seemed to settle back into their usual routines.
The following day was Sunday, and unfortunately, Greenmeadow International School didnât observe the weekend. Cordelia rose early for her morning studies and planned to head downstairs for breakfast at Midnight Scent as usual.
Upon reaching the dining area, she found Lorna sitting there, lost in thought. Dressed in an elegant sundress, there was a hint of melancholy in her demeanor as she stared at the breakfast table, only snapping out of her reverie when Cordelia approached.
âLia? I was just about to prepare your breakfast.â
She went into the kitchen, where she and Fiona packed up a breakfast for Cordelia, handing it to her with a mix of concern and care
Cordelia lingered instead of leaving, standing by her motherâs side. She could sense the weight of the world on Lornaâs shoulders and took the initiative to ask, âMom, something on your mind?â
With a heavy sigh, Lorna had not planned to share her troubles, but finding no one else to confide in, she
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Chapter 118
opened up. âLia, do you ever think Iâm useless?â
Cordelia shook her head, her response deliberate and sincere, âEveryone has their worth.â
Eyes downcast, Lorna continued, âIâm not good at the social dances your fatherâs world requires, Iâm terrible at playing the gracious hostess. Other than painting, I feel like Iâm nothing. And painting is justâ¦â She pressed her lips together, stopping herself.
In her youth, her art had been renowned, her pieces sought after at a premium. Then, after the trauma of Cordeliaâs disappearance, she had stopped.
Recently, she had completed two canvases and consigned them to a friendâs gallery, but they remained unsold. Could it be, as Laurinda had brutally hinted, that she was losing her edge?
After offering a few words of comfort, Cordelia grabbed breakfast to go and headed for the car.
Just then, her phone buzzed with a notification. She glanced at the screen to see a message in the longâsilent âPioneers Groupâ chat,
Painter asked, [Does anyone know of an artist named Lorn?]