Resurrecting the Genius Within (Calypso Rain) novel Chapter 221

Resurrecting the Genius Within 

Chapter 221 My Sweetheart 

After a brief period of silence, Isabelle cast a glance in Yves‘ direction and observed him sulking with an expression of discontent. 

She instructed, “Remain silent.” 

Yves, displaying defiance, replied, “With you by my side, why would I need a bodyguard?” 

Isabelle told herself, I regret posing the question. 

She guided Yves to the predetermined hotel for their evening meal. 

Upon exiting the car and stepping into the lobby, as they progressed toward the elevator, they noticed George and his group entering through a separate entrance. 

Kaeli exclaimed, “Miss Jenkins, what a surprise to encounter you here.” 

Dylan lightly tapped his nose, trying to hide his embarrassment. I have to confess, Mr. George’s aunt’s acting skills are quite remarkable. 

It proved to be quite a challenge for all those engaged in the preparations for Mr. George’s wedding. 

Yves fixed his stare on the determined George and interrogated Isabelle with an icy tone, “Do you believe this coincidence?” 

Isabelle stated firmly, “This is the most luxurious hotel in Taragon City.” 

Yves cautioned, “Don’t defend him, Sweetheart.” 

Isabelle expressed concern, “I fear you’ll torment yourself over this!” 

As George and his aunt drew near, Kaeli warmly proposed to Isabelle, “George has arranged a private room for me. Since we’re all present, why don’t you join us?” 

Isabelle sought Yves‘ perspective. 

Yves enthusiastically concurred, “Absolutely, I always relish a festive gathering.” 

Isabelle pondered, What’s this fellow plotting! 

The group ascended the stairs to the private room. 

“Sweetheart, please take a seat here,” Yves offered, pulling out a chair for Isabelle and then positioning another chair beside her. 

They were so close, they might as well have been sitting on the same chair. 

As the waiter approached with the menu, and just as George was about to pass it to Isabelle, the menu wound up in Yves‘ possession. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t have any specific cravings. I’ll just order according to your taste.” Yves held the menu, lounging casually. 

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23:09 Tue, 11 Jun 

Chapter 221 My Sweetheart 

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reciting a lesson, detailing the specifics of how the foie gras should be prepared, and what sauce to accompany it, mentioning that his sweetheart didn’t eat this but loved that. 

He then moved on to instructing about the steak–how it should be cooked, what sauce to pair with it, flipping through another menu for other dishes afterwards. 

All George could discern amidst the exchanges was the repeated use of “Sweetheart.” 

Isabelle reassured. “Mr. Harris, please pay him no mind. That’s simply his manner. 

George replied, “Understood.” 

Dylan pondered, Oh no, this individual is undoubtedly here to stir up trouble. 

As anticipated, Yves shut the menu, spotted the fresh red rose gracing the table before them, and extended his hand to retrieve the flower. 

All eyes were fixed on him as he carefully plucked the thorns from the rose, gently lifted Isabelle’s hair near her ear, and secured the rose behind her ear, remarking, “Flowers enhance beauty perfectly.” 

Yves leaned on his hand, beaming at Isabelle with a radiant expression, his smile seeming to emanate from the depths of his eyes. 

A devoted admirer, completely captivated by Isabelle. 

Isabelle plucked the rose from her ear, raised her hand, and resolutely inserted the flower into Yves‘ hair. Half of his meticulously styled locks were mercilessly penetrated by the rose. 

Yves valued his hair greatly, forbidding anyone from touching it, particularly since he had dedicated over thirty minutes to styling it. 

Had it been anyone else, even Jim, Yves would have engaged in an argument, but this person was Isabelle. 

Yves felt not only unfazed but also immensely joyful and honoured, bestowing upon Isabelle a radiant smile. Thank you, Sweetheart.” 

Dylan was astonished. The chairman of the Dilin Group, the leader of 791, was actually like this? 

Isabelle found this fellow rather cringe–worthy. 

Unable to resist, she stole a glance at George, seated a few rows apart. She caught him staring at her, his expression composed but his jaw tight, possibly grinding his teeth. 

Upon making eye contact, he gradually relaxed his expression, regulated his breathing, and then bestowed upon her a faint smile. 

Yves reached out and delicately redirected Isabelle’s gaze towards himself. “Sweetheart, don’t pay him any mind. Focus on me. What makes him so special?”