Love or Die CEO’s Daily Dose of Swoon (Cordelia and Sanderson)

Chapter 118 

Downstairs, the banquet hall was buzzing while upstairs, however, tranquility reigned. 

Merry, puzzled, broke the silence. “Did I just imagine that? It felt like there was someone in this room. What is this place?” 

Yates replied, “Storage room.” 

Merry called out, “Lia, are you in there?” 

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? 

She glared at Everard, wishing he could just vanish on the spot. Everard, witnessing Cordelia’s fluster for the first time, couldn’t help but let out a low, amused chuckle. 

Cordelia shot him a look that could kill, whispering fiercely, “Aren’t you worried about getting caught?” 

Everard chuckled again, the thrill of the moment evident in his voice, “Not in the slightest.” 

The look of indignation on the girl’s 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, “I’ll distract them.” 

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 Merry’s exclamation from outside, “Hey, is that Lia’s boyfriend? What are you doing in the storage room?” 

Everard, without missing a beat, replied absentmindedly, “Oh, just playing with a kitten.” 

Merry’s curiosity was piqued. “A kitten? Where? I want to see.” 

Everard, blocking the doorway, said nonchalantly, “It scampered out the window.” 

Cordelia was mortified. 

That’s a feeble excuse, who’s buying that? And is he trying to hint that she’s the kitten in this scenario? But to her surprise, Merry bought it. That’s a shame. But Yates, I didn’t know you had a cat.” 

Cordelia’s heart skipped a beat, fearing their cover was blown. 

Outside, Yates‘ 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, “I rather wish that cat belonged to us.” 

Merry caught on, “A stray cat, huh?” 

Yates didn’t reply, simply turned and said, “Let’s head back.” 

Though Merry was intimidated by Yates, she reluctantly followed him back to his room. As they entered, Yates. paused, his eyes locking with Everard’s in a silent clash. 

Everard’s expression was one of cold amusement, a smirk of victory playing upon his lips, 

Yates‘ eyes dimmed, his lips pressed into a tighter line. 

When the two had retreated into Yates‘ room, Everard finally turned away, his thoughts darkening at the memory of something the young man had said earlier, about how ‘she’s probably better off finding a place to 

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study.” 

Everard’s expression hardened. If that’s 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, “Lucky there are stray cats around here, or we would’ve been caught.” 

A glint of amusement passed through Everard’s eyes. She’s so gullible. 

With the party over and night advancing, Cordelia didn’t return to Yates‘ 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, “Mr. Watkins!” 

Everard nodded slightly before taking a seat, casually starting the conversation, “I saw Yates.” 

Hackett stiffened, hastily replying, “He’s just a foolish boy, incompetent at everything, poor at studies, quick to anger, just wasting his days away…” 

Everard’s gaze grew colder, silencing Hackett, who then pleaded, “Mr. Watkins, the Griffin family only has this grandson left. I just want him to live, not expecting any greatness–it’s his parents‘ greatest wish.” 

Everard’s jaw clenched at the mere mention of ‘his parents. After a moment, he said flatly. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see him.” 

Hackett exhaled in relief, his voice choked with gratitude, “Thank you.” 

The room fell silent once again. 

After a while, Everard added in a heavy, cool tone, “If there’s trouble, file a report.” 

Hackett smiled, relieved. “There’s no need! You’ve given the Griffin family the Greenmeadow estate. I’m ge 

old, and with that money, the young brat can squander it all he wants, and it’d still be enough.” 

The atmosphere relaxed considerably. 

getting 

After a brief exchange, Hackett inquired, “Are you here in Greenmeadow on some assignment? If the Griffin family can be of help, I’m at your service.” 

Everard waved him off, “I’ll be fine.” Pausing, he added, “I’m just here to pursue a girlfriend and take a little break.” 

Hackett was speechless. Why showing off to him? Wait, pursuing a girlfriend… does that mean he hadn’t won her over yet? 

After the long–anticipated banquet, the esteemed halls of Greenmeadow seemed to settle back into their usual routines. 

The following day was Sunday, and unfortunately, Greenmeadow International School didn’t 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. 

‘Lia? I was just about to prepare your breakfast.” 

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 mother’s side. She could sense the weight of the world on Lorna’s shoulders and took the initiative to ask, “Mom, something on your mind?” 

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. “Lia, do you ever think I’m useless?” 

Cordelia shook her head, her response deliberate and sincere, “Everyone has their worth.” 

Eyes downcast, Lorna continued, “I’m not good at the social dances your father’s world requires, I’m terrible at playing the gracious hostess. Other than painting, I feel like I’m nothing. And painting is just…” 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 Cordelia’s disappearance, she had stopped. 

Recently, she had completed two canvases and consigned them to a friend’s 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 long–silent “Pioneers Group” chat, 

Painter asked, [Does anyone know of an artist named Lorn?]