Sorry, I'm the Final Boss Now novel Chapter 200

It was past midnight. Marguerite didn't do any more homework. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She wondered where Lindsay lived and how long it would take her to get home. That patriarchal husband of hers had sounded so demanding. If someone spoke to her like that, she would slap them.

Lindsay’s marriage seemed incredibly unhealthy, but it wasn't her marriage to interfere with, even as her best friend.

She picked up her phone and sent a message.

[Let me know when you get home.]

Then she tossed the phone aside, turned off the light, and was asleep in seconds.

She didn't see the light in the living room downstairs that stayed on for a long, long time.

Nor did she see the tall, slender man who knelt by her bed in the deepest part of the night and pressed a kiss to the top of her pale foot.

Let me be a creep one last time.

The touch was so fleeting he barely felt the warmth of her skin, only smelled her intoxicating scent. He fought the urge to do more. The man stood, his eyes dark and wet, and looked at her peaceful face for a long, long time.

Just as the sky began to lighten, the handsome, pale man took one last, lingering look. As he turned to leave, a single tear fell, landing on the carpet by her bed, leaving a small, dark spot.

————

The next day, Marguerite woke up early for school as usual. When she came downstairs after washing up, she found the butler in a suit and bow tie.

“You’re here early today,” she said, surprised.

The butler smiled. “The master left on a business trip today, so I had to come in early.”

Marguerite was taken aback. “Huh? George is on a business trip? Where did he go? Is his hand fully healed?” That man really didn’t care about his own health when it came to making money. And it was so sudden. He hadn’t mentioned anything last night.

“He went to Veridia,” the butler replied. “He’ll be gone for a while. As for his hand, I suppose it’s healed. By the way, I was thinking of arranging for two live-in maids during this time. Would that be alright?”

Marguerite blinked. “Of course. I’m heading to school now.” It wasn’t her house. She had no say in the matter. She didn’t even have the right to know when he was leaving.

The driver was already waiting outside with Aaron. Marguerite got in the car, and Aaron handed her a container of wonton noodle soup. “Maggie, eat it while it’s hot.”

The luxury van they took to school had a spacious back seat, big enough to eat a full meal in. Marguerite looked at the steaming soup. She hadn't even had a late-night snack, but for some reason, she had no appetite this morning.

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