Oops! My Whirlwind Tycoon Husband Is the Guy from That Night? novel Chapter 6

"Thank you," Sonia murmured.

"You're welcome," Quentin replied.

Closing the door behind her, Quentin rounded the car and slid into the seat beside her.

The assistant stood frozen on the pavement, completely petrified.

He had worked for Quentin for years and had never, not once, seen the man open a car door for anyone.

Usually, no matter the event, people were scrambling to open doors for him.

The assistant stared at the woman in the red dress, his eyes filling with immediate reverence.

"Where to, Mr. Horton?" the driver asked cheerfully.

"City Hall," Quentin ordered.

The assistant stumbled as he tried to get into the passenger seat, smacking his head against the roof so hard he saw stars. He thought his brain might rattle out of his skull.

"C-City Hall? Boss, we don't have City Hall on the schedule today."

"We do now," Quentin stated flatly. "I am going to marry Miss Ashford."

The assistant felt the world spin.

The driver, however, was beaming. One thousand dollars, straight into his pocket. Hell yes.

...

The Rolls-Royce glided smoothly down the avenue. Coming from the opposite direction, Zoe Young strutted down the sidewalk.

She was wearing a brand-new white Dior dress paired with Chanel heels. Her makeup was meticulously applied, her entire look flawlessly curated. She completely missed Quentin sitting in the back of the passing luxury car.

Through the tinted glass, Sonia spotted Zoe. A triumphant, predatory smile curved her red lips.

Following her gaze, Quentin briefly noted the woman in the white dress walking outside. He felt absolutely nothing, his expression completely blank as he looked away.

Standing in front of the café, Zoe took a deep, steadying breath. She looked incredibly nervous and highly invested. Pulling out a compact mirror, she frantically checked her hair and makeup.

Today, she was supposed to go on a blind date with the Prince of the Circle, Quentin Horton.

To secure this meeting, she and Laura had spent an entire year bribing contacts, calling in favors, and relentlessly networking just for a sliver of a chance.

She had done her research. She knew Quentin supposedly liked innocent, sweet girls-next-door, which was exactly why she had chosen the demure white dress.

She needed to be perfect. The moment Quentin saw her, she needed him to fall hopelessly in love.

Satisfied that her appearance was flawless, Zoe practiced a sweet, gentle smile and pushed open the café doors.

She scanned the room, but the tall, breathtakingly aristocratic man she had been obsessing over was nowhere to be found.

A waiter walked by the table and casually adjusted the 9 back into a 6.

Oblivious, Zoe walked over and sat at Table 6.

She smoothed her collar, adjusted her neckline, and carefully flattened every invisible wrinkle on her skirt. Finally, she subtly parted the slit of her dress to show off her legs.

The minutes ticked by. Half an hour passed, and Quentin still hadn't shown up.

Zoe's giddy excitement slowly soured into anxious dread.

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