Chapter 155
“How about this one?” George asked his assistant, Kim.
Kim looked at it numbly. “That one’s fine, too p>
Dear God, this was the twenty-fifth white suit.
As a straight man, he genuinely could not tell the difference between any of them. And the glasses-they were all either silver or gold, with nearly identical frames. It wasn’t like there was some important event tonight.
What was his boss doing?
He had already showered five times.
“Alright, I’ve decided. You can go home now,” George said, dismissing him.
Hearing the words “go home” was like a shot of adrenaline to a weary worker.
Kim felt no desire to linger. He grabbed his bag. “Okay, Mr. Spencer. See you tomorrow p>
As the villa fell silent, George examined his reflection one more time.
He had shaved, trimmed his eyebrows, and his hair was freshly washed. His glasses were new.
Good. He looked clean and perfect.
He desperately wanted to take another shower-he had worked up a bit of a sweat trying on clothes, and he couldn’t risk Marguerite smelling it. But he glanced at his watch. It was already eight o’clock.
Marguerite could arrive at any moment. He had to be ready.
Earlier today, his assistant had informed him that Theobald’s executive assistant was inquiring about the current resident of this villa. It confirmed his early-morning suspicion: her sleep disorder meant she could only rest properly in this house.
She would likely come tonight.
So, George had worked from home all day, waiting.
The villa community was situated a hillside, and his was the very first house. Every time he saw headlights coming up the winding road through his dressing room window, his heart would hammer in his chest.
Just then, another pair of lights cut through the darkness of the mountain road, moving slowly towards him.
George’s breathing grew ragged. He reached up to loosen his tie, then immediately tightened it again.
He paced the room, his long legs restless, sweat pooling in his palms and stinging the cut from last night.
Would it be her this time?
Could it be?
Ding-dong.
Marguerite pressed the doorbell.
Theobald stood beside her, his tall frame casting a shadow over her.
“Are you sure it’s George, sis?” Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs.net
Marguerite shrugged. “I’m not sure. That’s just the information Anna gave me p>
Theobald fiddled with the rosary
beads on his right wrist. “This area isn’t what it used to be. Not many people live here anymore, the wealthy have moved elsewhere p>
“An magnate like George shouldn’t be living in an old villa like this p>
Theobald wasn’t personally
acquainted with George, but he was grateful to him. Starlight Group owed much of its success to S.S Capital’s backing. He had tried multiple times to invite George to dinner, but he had always declined, instructing him to direct any questions to the project manager. It made sense; he had invested in so many successful companies. If he accepted every dinner invitation, he’d have no time for work.
The last time he remembered seeing George was on the overpass the day his sister was declared dead. Many people from Pinecrest High had been there, including him. Georges had stood there, his lean, scholarly face expressionless, his eyes distant and empty.
He had heard about George and Marguerite being arch-rivals. Maybe he was there
out of a sense of respect for a worthy opponent.
Well, today was a reunion of old nemeses. Surely, for old time’s sake, he would agree to sell them the villa.
He was willing to pay a premium.
The doorbell rang for a while with no answer.
Marguerite pressed it again.
The lights were on, so someone had to be home.
Ding-dong.
This time, they heard footsteps approaching from inside.
The door opened to reveal a middle-aged man who looked like a butler.
“Good evening. May I help you p>
“Hello,” Marguerite said politely. “I’m looking for George. Is he home p>
“You’re looking for Mr. Spencer? May I ask who you are p>
Marguerite thought for a moment. “Just tell him an old classmate is here to see him about something urgent p>
After a full day and night without sleep, Marguerite’s head was starting to feel fuzzy.