"Your father is in a meeting and couldn’t get away, so we came to take you home. You’ve really suffered, Young Master. When we get back, I’ll make you something delicious to make it up to you. Look at this poor head of yours, oh dear..."
After fawning over the boy, the middle-aged woman shot the teacher a stern look.
"How are you people watching these children? He comes to school perfectly fine, and now look at what’s happened to our young master! If this leaves a scar on his face, can you take responsibility for that?"
The boy clearly didn’t want to stay in the hospital any longer and cut the woman off.
"It wasn’t the teacher’s fault. It was all that damn fatty, Lucas Sterling. I’ll just get my dad to teach him a lesson later."
"Let’s go. It stinks in here. Stop wasting your breath."
The woman finally relented. "Alright, alright, we’ll go home. Let the butler carry you. King, go get the car."
The little young master left the hospital room, surrounded by three servants. After exchanging a few more polite words with the teacher, Cecelia Archer also left.
Back home, she cooked a huge, lavish dinner for Candy, made sure she ate her fill, and tucked her into bed before speaking to Doris Morton.
"Running the stall isn’t a long-term solution. The money’s been decent these past few days, but it’s just too time-consuming and exhausting. I have no time to spend with Candy, and I feel awful about it. I think I’ll just look for a nine-to-five job."
Candy had been injured twice in just one month, and Doris Morton’s heart ached for her as well.
"Yeah, find a nine-to-five. You can pick up some part-time gigs on the side. You’ll still be able to provide for Candy that way. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself."
"I actually have a part-time gig in mind for you. If you’re not running the stall tomorrow, you should go check it out."
"What kind of gig?"
"Tutoring. For a rich family in South Hill Villas. It’s just on weekends, one session a day, one hour per session. The pay is 500 an hour. My cousin was doing it and things were going great, but she had to quit because of a recent work transfer and recommended me for the job. But you know my temper—I don’t have the patience to wait on spoiled rich kids. I was going to pass it on to someone else, but now it’s perfect for you."
’Tutoring?’
’That’s a good job.’ Cecelia Archer loved working with children.
But...
"A family like that must have extremely high standards for education, and I... I never graduated."
Doris Morton waved it off. "So what if you didn’t graduate? It’s a referral from someone they know; they’re not going to check for a diploma. As long as you don’t bring it up, who’s going to know? Besides, you were a straight-A student your whole life. You’re telling me you can’t teach one little kid?"
"Just give it a shot. It’s not like you’re guaranteed to get it, but what do you have to lose by trying?"
「The next morning」
At seven o’clock sharp, Cecelia Archer arrived at the front door of the home Doris Morton had told her about.
It was a massive, imposing, standalone villa.
High courtyard walls flanked the black, ornate gate, and they were covered in a profusion of beautiful flowers and greenery.
Even without stepping inside, the glimpse of the scenery beyond the gate was enough to convey the owner’s immense wealth.
But this wasn’t what Cecelia Archer was sighing about. It was the fact that she had been here not long ago. She had spent the night in a villa somewhere on this property, and something had... happened with someone.
She had been very drunk that night, and it had been dark when she’d arrived, so she hadn’t noticed how magnificent the area was.
Recalling it now, she was suddenly struck by the immensity of Damien’s wealth.
’He’s a male escort from a club, yet he not only has several luxury cars he seems to rotate through, but also a property this magnificent? My God!’
While she was lost in thought, someone inside spotted her. A screen on the gate lit up, and a woman’s voice asked, "Who are you? What do you want?"
Cecelia Archer quickly straightened up. "I was recommended by Ms. Sawyer. I have an interview scheduled for today."
"Oh, the tutor. Come on in."
As her voice faded, the gate opened slowly, and Cecelia Archer stepped inside.
The villa’s exterior was magnificent, but the interior was even more so, exuding an air of understated luxury from every corner.
A nanny came to meet her. "You’ll be leaving soon anyway, so don’t worry about changing your shoes. Just put these covers on. The young master is still asleep upstairs. If you can manage to get him up before seven-thirty, you’ll have passed the interview."
’Why did that woman’s voice sound so familiar?’ Cecelia Archer wondered. As she looked up, she realized—it was the nanny of the little boy she had seen at the hospital yesterday.
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