Chapter 118
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.
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The following day was Sunday, and
unfortunately, Greenmeadow
pe : p
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. The content
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chapter there!
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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
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“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.”
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. wy
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
Ee , .
than painting, I feel like I'm nothing.
A Ss »
And painting is just...” She pressed
her lips together, stopping herself.
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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?]