18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 565

Rosie was at a loss for words, feeling a mix of anger and embarrassment. Men of all ages seemed to find reasons to hover around her and Poppy, their attentiveness both flattering and overwhelming. Just the other night, when she got home, there was this absurd scene of them playing the knight in shining armor. Rosie was so irritated she could have dislocated their arms.

Stella sized up Rosie, blooming with the grace of youth. Not just the restless men, but even women found it hard to look away. Add to that her family background and wealth—it was enough to make anyone drool with envy. Never mind Rosie, Stella thought to herself, if she and Jasper ever split, there would probably be a line of men ready to break down her door. Such was the brutal reality!

Rubbing her temples, Stella carefully chose her words, “Rosie, what do you think about Bran?”

“He’s alright.”

Stella probed further, “Alright in what way?”

Rosie paused, “Well... because of you and my brother.”

“So...” Stella hesitated, “has he ever said anything inappropriate to you, or done something?”

Rosie looked even more confused, “No, what’s wrong?”

Stella opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Nothing, just that he’s all talk, never really serious.” She suddenly found herself unable to continue the conversation.

When Jasper got home, it was already pitch black outside. After debriefing their mission, Reagan planned to send someone to check the inventory before the handover the next day.

Stella was curious, “We brought back so many Kindle Chests, did Yu Changtu ask about the details?”

“No, he didn’t.”

If Yu Changtu didn’t inquire, it meant Daniel must have already given the heads up. It was a situation that was beneficial to all involved, and digging deeper could only backfire. Someone in Reagan’s position wouldn't make such a rookie mistake. An unspoken understanding was sufficient.

Stella agreed. If Reagan didn’t have the sense, Daniel wouldn’t have let him take on the role.

It was about time for dinner, and the three of them headed next door, not forgetting to bring along their loyal pets. It was Daniel who was cooking, with Vanessa assisting by his side. After two months of living together, Rosie had become quite chummy with them, “Aunt Vanessa, the tomatoes at the farm will be ripe next month. We can make tomato and egg soup then.”

Vanessa chuckled with delight, “That sounds wonderful.”

The pets came wagging their tails at her, as if they were begging for a treat. Stella could barely watch the display.

Daniel acted as chef, preparing three dishes and a soup. There was tofu skin and meatball soup, stir-fried dried vegetables with bacon, ham and fried eggs, and steamed greens.

Stella helped set the table. The family gathered to eat. Daniel smiled proudly at his daughter and son-in-law, “Try it, let me know what you think.”

Vanessa chimed in, “Stella, this is the first time your dad has cooked a proper meal. Let’s see how he did.”

Stella felt a warmth in her heart, but as the hot soup touched her lips, her expression betrayed her attempts to hide her reaction. “Mmm, not bad,” she said, nudging Jasper, “you try it.”

Jasper took a bite of the fried egg, which was slightly burnt, and popped it into his mouth, “….” Salty as the sea!

Daniel, oblivious to their reactions, basked in the pride of his daughter and son-in-law’s approval, feeling as accomplished as he did in his professional triumphs. However, when he tasted his own cooking, he began to question his culinary skills.

Jasper wasn’t overly confident, but Rosie was more than capable of handling herself against a horde of silver-spooned suitors. Did she really need him to play the protector? Besides, he was only half a year older than her.

Bran was a complicated man, born into privilege and then humbled by disaster. He was resilient, bending with the wind, his smooth talk concealing ambition. In a post-apocalyptic world, these weren't necessarily flaws. But as Rosie’s brother, regardless of Bran’s intentions, Jasper wanted her to experience pure love. They weren’t a good match, and Rosie was still underage. He feared she might be taken advantage of.

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Rosie tomorrow.”

Whether it was Bran or any other suitor, Jasper hoped Rosie would stay sharp and wait until she was older, preferably after the catastrophe had passed.

After their intimate moments, Jasper kissed Stella’s forehead tenderly, “Sleep now, I’ll find a chance to talk to Rosie.” In these turbulent times, the innocence of first love was a complicated thing, easily exploited. Rosie needed to be careful.

The next morning, while Stella was still deep in her dreams, Jasper had already risen with the sun. Rosie was in the front yard, wrapping up her morning jog, before moving to the backyard to feed the chickens. He went out to lend a hand.

"Rosie," he started casually as he tossed some feed to the hens, "you're not getting any younger. Got your eye on someone special?"

Rosie seemed taken aback at first and then her cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson. "No, I'm not into guys," she blurted out.

Jasper was momentarily baffled by her reaction. What was this? Anger? An eagerness to distance herself? Could there actually be something going on?

The thought flashed through his mind, igniting an urge to throttle Bran!

That son of a gun.