The True Heiress Returns (Tilda Jenson) novel Chapter 49

Chapter 49 Weren’t Enough Words

No way Tilda was letting that old bastard slip away again.

Tilda worked nonstop for two hours straight before finally dropping her pen.

She glanced at the clock.

It was already 9 p.m.

“All this prep should be enough.”

A little smirk tugged at her lips, full of quiet confidence.

She was just about to whip up some instant noodles for dinner when her phone buzzed.

It was a message from Jude.

Tilda looked down.

Jude wrote, “Want me to bring you something to eat?”

Attached was a photo of some strange black lump, sticky and gross–looking.

At first, she didn’t want to answer.

But that ugly thing in the photo piqued her curiosity.

What is that even supposed to be?

Is he playing some kind of prank?

Tilda typed back, “What is this supposed to be?”

Finished

Jude replied, “When people with Omega–type blood get older, their sense of taste fades. I worked with tons of scientists and chefs to make this food, Doesn’t look great, but tastes amazing.”

Tilda froze.

So there is a side effect like that?

No wonder, in my last life, everything had started to taste bland.

But now, back at 19, I haven’t hit that stage yet.

Still… maybe I should plan ahead.

She wrote, “Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Bell. How do I get it from you?”

Jude replied, “Send me your address. I’ll bring it over.”

Tilda simply wrote back an ellipsis.

Jude asked, “Problem with that?”

Tilda replied, “No.”

Then she sent her location.

She knew better.

A man like Jude could dig up her address in seconds if he really wanted to.

Hiding from him was pointless.

11:22 AM P P ·

Chapter 49 Weren’t Enough Words

As long as she didn’t blow her cover, it didn’t matter.

Half an hour later, the doorbell rang.

Tilda opened the door.

Jude stood there, in person, alone.

“Are you gonna invite me in?”

13

His deep, magnetic voice carried the kind of tone that could make a woman’s knees weak.

Tilda coughed lightly. “This is a single woman’s place, you know…”

“Relax. I don’t force anyone to do what they don’t want.”

He lowered his head slightly, his amber eyes locking onto hers, like pools of molten gold.

It was the kind of gaze that made people feel their souls might drown.

A man at Jude’s level probably thought her little apartment looked shabby.

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