Love or Die: CEO’ s Daily Dose of Swoon (Cordelia) novel Chapter 116

Chapter 116 

Sanderson had been wheeling and dealing in the business world for years, his instincts honed to a razor’n edge. It didn’t take more than a glance for him to surmise there was something extraordinary about Everard. Everard carried himself with a grace and sophistication that simply couldn’t be bred in an average household. Moreover, there was a chilling aloofness to his demeanor that didn’t quite scream ‘boy–next–door. 

Racking his brain, Sanderson couldn’t place who or what Everard might be, but he was determined to find out, ever at the risk of offending Everard. He couldn’t stand the thought of Cordelia being duped or taken advantage of. 

Everard stood his ground, his deep eyes locked on Sanderson, clearly perceiving the wariness in Sanderson’s gaze. 

“Tough nut to crack, Lia’s father,” Everard thought, letting his head droop slightly as he shed his usual cool exterior. With deference that seemed almost out of character, he said, “Mr. Delaney, I’m Cordella’s boyfriend, Everard Watkins.” 

Sanderson wasn’t asking about that, though. Pursing his lips, he pressed on, “What’s your connection with Calvert, or should I say, with Bill?” 

Everard wasn’t in the business of deceit. His lips parted slightly as he considered his response carefully, “We’ve worked together in the past.” 

Sanderson raised an eyebrow, “Business partners?” 

A nod from Everard, “Yes.” 

Calvert, standing to the side, couldn’t help but twitch his lips in amusement. Yeah, business partners with Everard who even calls him ‘boss. Even Bill didn’t get that kind of treatment. 

But Sanderson caught on to a particular word, ‘Past?” 

Everard nodded again. The less said about his past identity, the better. 

“And now?” Sanderson probed further. 

“Now, I’m no longer with GoldGrasp Enterprises,” Everard revealed. 

GoldGrasp Enterprises, Bill’s financial empire, with tendrils stretching across the nation. 

“Why leave?” Sanderson blurted out instinctively. 

Everard’s gaze grew distant, perhaps recalling past events, and he said with a touch of nostalgia, “GoldGrasp Enterprises didn’t need me anymore.” 

Those words, together with Everard’s melancholic and somewhat defeated air, led Sanderson to misinterpret. 

He knew all too well the struggles of starting a business, having built one from the ground up with partners, only to step away due to differing visions and the desire not to sever ties with friends. 

Understanding the sting of abandonment, Sanderson empathized with Everard, who seemed reluctant to discuss the past, and perhaps that was why he was so reticent. 

And there he was, the proprietor of a humble establishment called Midnight Scent, seemingly lacking ambition. Had his spirit been crushed, leaving him unable to move forward? 

That seemed like the most logical explanation. 

Having worked with Bill, Everard must’ve left with a hefty sum, enough to fund his new venture and his sharp 

attire. 

Otherwise, it was hard to picture someone of his stature living without purpose. 

And with Calvert staying at Everard’s place upon his arrival in Greenmeadow, perhaps it was out of a sense of 

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Chapter 116 

debt? 

Sanderson clapped Everard on the shoulder, his suspicion waning as he offered words of encouragement, “Everyone hits a rough patch, but that’s the time to rise up, not to fall into apathy. You’re a young man, and you’ve got this. I believe in you.” 

Everard was momentarily speechless. It seemed he had been somewhat misunderstood. 

But this misunderstanding had clearly worked in his favor, elevating Sanderson’s opinion of him. 

Everard’s lips moved, his earlier reverie turning to sorrow as he asked softly, “Really?” 

Sanderson nodded firmly. 

Everard narrowed his eyes slightly, his expression one of admiration, “Could I seek advice from you, Mr. Delaney, when I’m feeling lost?” 

Feeling the pride of an elder, Sanderson readily agreed, “Anytime.” 

He added with a chuckle, “Next time my company needs office supplies, and you can’t turn us down.” 

Everard hesitated, then realized, “Your company approached us last time?” 

Sanderson nodded, having kept the transaction anonymous out of respect for Everard’s pride. He patted Everard’s shoulder again, “Opening Midnight Scent will only make you complacent. If you’re ready to get back into the game, maybe I can find a position for you at my company?” 

Everard nodded, “I’m thinking of taking a bit more time off, but I’ll surely trouble you then.” 

“No trouble at all.” Sanderson beamed, thoroughly enjoying their conversation. 

Calvert, meanwhile, was dumbfounded. Everard, who had relinquished control of GoldGrasp Enterprises to avoid the hassle of management and refused even the title of chairman, was considering a position at the Delaney Group, a mere blip compared to his empire. 

If word got out, Bill might just storm over in a fit of betrayal. 

Calvert, trying to follow Everard, found himself cornered by guests, “Mr. Wallace, it’s a pleasure, I’m…” 

Despite Calvert claiming Everard was his friend, Hackett had stuck by Calvert’s side, leaving Everard to take care of himself, an indication that Calvert was the one with the real clout. 

And with Sallie out of the picture, others saw their chance. 

After a few more exchanges with Everard and sharing some business insights, Sanderson’s admiration grew the point where he addressed Everard by his name with ease. 

But duty called, and he excused himself to mingle with the other guests. 

Upon his return, he noticed Cordelia and Loma still seated on the couch, with Everard nowhere in sight. “Where’s Everard?” he asked. 

Cordelia replied without looking up from her math problems, “Bathroom, maybe?” 

She’d been grinding through math problems for months and was almost through the entire set. Occasionally, she felt it was all a bit monotonous 

After making the necessary round of schmoozing at the party, Sanderson was ready for the evening to wind down. Instead of mingling further, he chose to sit next to Cordelia, finding themselves in a quiet corner. He leaned in and whispered earnestly, ‘Lia, I’ve been thinking, Everard seems like a good fit. What do you say we hire him?” 

He knew Cordelia was a sharp one, a real bookworm, not the type who’d be drawn to the hustle of business. But the company would be hers one day, and perhaps Everard could take the reins. 

Cordelia replied with a simple, “No need.” 

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