Chapter 156 Have We Met Before, Five Years Ago?
Moore’s face was a mask of doubt as she gazed at me, clueless. Then Idris, who had been chatting with Ensio by the stairs, heard my cry and rushed over, quickly helping me to my feet.
Moore froze at the sight of Idris, and it took her a moment to find her words, “Iddy, you…
Once I was steady, Idris’s gaze shifted to Moore, his expression unreadable. He simply instructed Ensio, “Take Ms. Scott home.
He was not talking about me.
Ensio nodded, approached Moore with a formal air, and said, “Ms. Scott, let’s get you home.”
A look of disbelief and panic crossed Moore’s face. “Iddy, what I just said…”
“I heard everything you said,” Idris cut in, his voice steady and detached as he looked at her with indifference. “I’m not getting a divorce.”
The words hit the air with a force that left both Moore and me frozen in place. I bet Moore never saw it
coming–Idris telling her off with such raw honesty.
He was basically spelling it out for her: no divorce was in the cards, so she had better not get any wild
ideas.
Moore’s face went ghostly white, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She tried to speak, but no
words came out.
Ensio chose that perfect awkward moment to chime in, “Ms. Scott, I’ll take you home.”
Moore shuffled away, head down, like a chicken after a losing bout in the coop.
As she retreated, I turned away, only to hear Idris’s voice, deep and controlled. “You okay?”
I shook my head, silent, and headed for Madam Young’s room.
Idris caught my wrist, and I frowned at him, annoyed, “Mr. Young, what’s up?”
He looked at me, his face unreadable, “Do I seem like a fool to you?”
His question caught me off guard, reminding me of the harsh words I had thrown at Moore–and that he had overheard, including the part where I called him a dunce.
Feeling suddenly sheepish, I bit my l*p, “You’re reading too much into it. I was just caught up in the heat of the moment with Moore. Plus, you said it yourself, you’re not a fool.”
The more I tried to explain, the more it felt off.
Idris could sense it, just as I could. I expected him to get mad, but his face stayed calm.
He just arched an eyebrow and said coolly, “Cut the act. Fake falls aren’t your style.”
Crap, he was onto me.
I was about to argue when he gave me a sidelong glance, a playful smirk on his face, and said slowly, That was way too fake.”
I was speechless. I tried to pull away from his grip, but the guy was strong. No matter how hard I tried, I could not break free. In fact, it only made him hold on tighter. So, I just clammed up.
He noticed my silence and his tone got softer. “Yvette,” he said.
“Yeah?” I replied, not exactly in the friendliest tone.
“Did we meet at the border five years ago?”
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