Chapter 69
Calvert couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his mouth as he witnessed the whole scene.
By all accounts, it seemed high time for the couple to progress to the next phase of romance, to be all about kisses, cuddles, and flirting. They should be more affectionate by now. Otherwise, Cordelia might just ache her heart with longing
It was cles, that Cordelia was still somewhat resistant to such displays of affection, which was why Everard had to get creative, resorting to the kind of moves that might seem like a playboy taking his advantage.
But it made it easier for her to accept
Calvert let out a sigh.
It was Cordelia who was supposed to be under the curse of “love of die“. Yet, somehow, it was Everard who seemed totally smitten.
Having known the boss for years, Calvert had never seen him so invested in anyone!
As he shook his head in bemusement, Everard, dressed in a crisp black shirt, slowly clenched his fist and turned to glare icily in his direction. Calvert stiffened and hurriedly blurted out, “Boss, the math journal got in touch. In two days, they’ll publish Cordelia’s paper!”
Everard nodded in satisfaction, pocketed his hands, and settled back behind the counter to ponder.
After tidying up the dining area, Calvert played a couple of rounds on his phone. When he looked up, he saw his boss still sitting there, legs stretched out nonchalantly on the floor, slightly hunched over, gaze fixed ahead, posture unchanged.
Calvert couldn’t help but ask, “Boss, what’s on your mind?”
Everard replied, “Thinking about my girl.”
Calvert almost slapped himself. He shouldn’t have asked! Wasn’t he already fed up with the daily overdose of
romance?
Everard narrowed his eyes slightly. Beneath the proud bridge of his nose, his lips began to move, his voice deep, “It’s time for Cordelia to learn something new.”
Calvert was at a loss for words.
Cordelia entered the school gates and immediately noticed something different. There were extra security guards and students on duty, rigorously checking student IDs.
She was running a bit late after sparring with Everard and spotted Yates ahead in line, his vibrant red hair impossible to miss.
With his hands in his pockets and a defiant air about him, he was impatient yet compliant with the security check. Then he seemed to sense something, turned his head, and casually surveyed the queue of students
behind him when he spotted Cordelia.”
The student following him, standing a good meter away, was intimidated by Yates‘ look and called out, “Cordelia, go ahead!”
Cordelia felt she should wait her turn. But after the student’s invitation, the others stepped back, making room for her. At this point, it would be a waste of time to argue. She might as well head to class early to review
TIME.
Approaching Yates, the student on duty checked his ID and then moved to check Cordelia’s.
Yates snapped irritably, “Damn! Check what exactly?”
The student on duty shrank back, “Yates, we’re just following protocol…”
1/3
11:20
Yaten lifted his chan, his eyes defiant, and retorted. “Are they guarding against reporters? Am I a reporter? Who are you trying to impress here? Checking IDs of classmates? Are you blind? Don’t recognize us? With this overzealous efficiency, we’ll be late for classr
The student on duty didn’t dare respond
Initially, he hadn’t planned to check Yates, but Yates had complied, so why the fuss when it was Cordelia’s turn?
He hurriedly allowed them to enter the school
Yates walked alongside Cordelia on the gravel path through the campus. A gust of wind lifted her ponytail, brushing strands of hair against Yates face, carrying a faint scent of cherry blossoms.
The darkening in Yates‘ eyes was subtle as he glanced at Cordelia, shorter by a head. She wore a white cap and walked with a straight posture, always seeming never to tire.
Yates clenched his jaw.
Ever since he had intentionally sought out her boyfriend at Midnight Scent, he hadn’t made any attempt to see Cordelia again. Partly because his grandfather had cut off his credit cards, leaving him with a meager monthly allowance, and partly because he didn’t know what to say.
As they entered the academic building, knowing they would part ways if he didn’t speak up, Yates finally muttered, “Boss Cordelia.”
Cordelia turned slowly, her misty eyes meeting his.
Yates, lips pressed tightly together, finally said, “See you later.”
After questioning himself about what right he had to inquire when even the worthless owner of Midnight Scent could make him feel inferior, he strode up the stairs and into class eight.
Once inside, Yates checked his phone for hot searches on Twitter, relieved to see the platform still down. He then opened his WhatsApp and messaged someone, “Bland’s shooting at Greenmeadow International School, rumored to be visiting a mystery girlfriend. Once the hot search is back on, release this news. It’ll crash Twitter for days, maybe weeks. That’ll bury the Superiority College incident.”
The reply came, “Good idea.”
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