Roland raised his eyebrows slightly. "Go on," he said.
"Ms. Alvera entrusted her money to Samuel Lambert, the eldest son of the Lambert family, to fund and build an orphanage in a rural area," Terry reported. "The construction has already begun. It's supervised by Samuel Lambert's trustees. The cash that Ms. Alvera withdrew these two days was also given to him for this purpose."
"Alvera orphanage?" Roland frowned with his tone sceptical.
"Yes, that's right."
"Send someone to keep an eye on them. Report to me if anything happens."
"Yes, sir."
"Also, go to the bank and set a withdrawal limit on the card. Set the limit to 20,000 dollars. No one should be able to take more than that without my consent," he added.
"Yes, sir."
After hanging up, Roland took out a cigarette and lit it.
He rolled down the window and flicked the ash off his cigarette.
"What kind of woman was this Alvera?" he pondered.
She funded an orphanage even though she was not doing so well herself.
What was she trying to do?
He said that she had no conscience this morning...
He frowned. His irritation was clearly reflected on his face.
Alvera did not see Roland again for the next two weeks.
She did not look for him either.
She cooped up at home every day, reading books and enriching herself.
After dinner, Becky left on some personal business.
It was raining outside. Alvera read for a while in the living room, then locked the doors and windows and went upstairs to rest.
The doorbell suddenly rang in the middle of the night.
She woke up with a shock and went downstairs to check the CCTV. She saw Terry standing at the door, supporting Roland by his arm.
She opened the door and smelt the strong alcohol emitting from the man in front of her.
Terry said laboriously, "Ms, Alvera, please prepare a room for Mr. Francois. He's drunk."
Alvera frowned and took a look at Roland, who was leaning against Terry. She turned around, went to the guest room on the first floor, and gave the room a quick clean.
Terry put Roland on the bed and helped him take off his shoes. He breathed heavily as he turned to Alvera and said, "I'm sorry, Ms. Alvera, please take care of Mr. Francois tonight."
"Why are you here?" he asked.
Alvera recovered from her dizziness after a moment. "This is the Floral Villa."
Roland frowned, he is confused.
"Terry sent you here," Alvera continued calmly.
He was looking at her sceptically. Seeing this, she sighed. "If you don't want to stay here, I can send you back now. I didn't drink, so I can drive."
He relaxed a little, sat up, and rubbed his forehead.
She quickly turned over and got out of bed, keeping a significant distance from him.
He gave her a sidelong glance. "Does she hate me so much?" he thought.
"I'll get you something for your hangover," she said, and left the room quickly.
Roland sat on the bed for a few minutes, then got up and staggered out of the room.
The kitchen door was open. He could see what was going on in the kitchen from where he stood at the doorway of the guest room.
Alvera was standing with her back against the wall, her expression was anxious and nervous.
It was unlike her normal domineering, tricky, and argumentative manners.
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