Chapter 24 Chapter 24
She remembered Principal Dennis well.
Short, bald, chubby—and with a smile that made any woman feel repulsed.
But at that moment, he was the perfect tool.
Edward remained silent.
The mental image of Principal Dennis popped into his mind—and he felt a twinge of discomfort.
Claire watched him silently, patiently.
“Edward...” she said finally, with forced tenderness, “I know he's not handsome enough for my sister, but what matters is his character. Let them get to know each other. Maybe it will work out.”
Edward was silent for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh.
He also thought that Principal Dennis was far from worthy of Caroline. But seeing Claire's “worried” expression, he didn't have the heart to disagree.
“All right,” he said at last. “I'll talk to him tomorrow.”
Dinner, on the other side of town, was taking on a completely different tone.
The revolving restaurant reflected golden lights on Caroline Ford's face, and the taste of the exquisite dishes still danced on her tongue. It was undoubtedly the most luxurious dinner she had ever had in her entire life.
The dishes were impeccable, every detail carefully prepared.
And Caroline, without realizing it, tasted one by one, until she realized she had cleaned the entire plate.
Now, leaning back in her chair, she discreetly touched her stomach.
She was... full. Very full.
Nicholas Wolf, sitting across from her, wiped the corners of his lips with his napkin, each movement precise and elegant.
When the waiter approached with the bill, he simply nodded, and the man hurried to return the black card—the kind of card few dared even touch.
Nicholas took it calmly.
The smile that curved his lips was almost imperceptible, but the tone of his voice—low and provocative—made Caroline's face flush immediately:
“Your appetite is excellent today.” He watched her with that look of someone who knew exactly the effect he had on her. “It seems you enjoyed the food.”
Caroline blinked, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “I...” she tried to reply, but he didn't let her.
“If you want,” he said casually, but with a touch of irony in his smile, “we can come here every day.”
She coughed, choking on her water.
Her eyes widened.
“E-every day?!”
Nicholas leaned back in his chair, amused.
“Of course.” His voice was pure provocation. “After all, watching you eat with such gusto is... charming.” Caroline looked down, embarrassed, and bit her lip, trying to suppress an involuntary smile.
But deep down, she felt her heart beating faster again—that same uncontrolled rhythm that only Nicholas Wolf could provoke.
Caroline Ford had eaten at least two-thirds of the food that adorned the table.
Meanwhile, Nicholas Wolf—a tall man with broad shoulders and a naturally imposing gaze—had barely touched his plate.
He ate slowly, with the elegance of someone in no hurry, almost like a delicate girl.
Caroline, on the other hand, couldn't help herself. The dishes were exquisite, the seasonings perfect. Everything seemed irresistible.
She leaned back in her chair, resting her hand on her stomach and letting out a small sigh of satisfaction.
“The food here is really delicious...” she said, smiling. “But it's also very expensive. Eating here every day would be an absurd luxury.”
Nicholas watched her for a moment. Then, with a smile that made his expression dangerously charming, he replied:
“It's okay if you like it.”
His tone was simple, but his deep, warm gaze made her heart skip a beat.
“You need to believe in your husband's financial ability,” he continued, his voice low and magnetic. “Even if you come here three times a day, every day, for the rest of your life... I won't go bankrupt.”
Caroline was speechless.
“Your husband.”
The words echoed in her head, sweet and slightly provocative.
She knew he was rich—very rich.
For her, a meal costing tens of thousands of dollars was an extravagance.
For him... it was the same as an ordinary person spending fifty.
But the problem wasn't the money.
It was the way he had said “my husband”—as if each syllable had been designed to make her nervous.
Her heart raced again.
If it kept beating at this rate, she thought, she would have a heart attack before she even got used to the marriage.
After dinner, Caroline wanted to stop by the hospital to visit Sara.
Nicholas didn't hesitate to accompany her.
He knew how much that child meant to her.
And if he wanted to get closer to Caroline, he also needed to get closer to the person she loved most.
“Master, Mistress.” José was waiting for them at the entrance. As soon as he saw them, he opened the door of the Rolls-Royce and greeted them respectfully.
Caroline got in first, and Nicholas followed right behind her.
When the driver asked for their destination, she replied softly:
“To the hospital, José.”
The car drove off, gliding through the night streets of São Paulo with silent elegance.
But a few meters behind, fate had another irony in store.
Claire Ford and Edward Collins had just left the restaurant when the luxurious black Rolls-Royce passed the entrance, its metallic sheen reflecting the city lights.
They both stopped at the same time.
Claire stood motionless, her eyes glued to the receding car.
It was impossible not to recognize that model.
“Edward...” she murmured, her voice tense. “The woman in that Rolls-Royce... is that my sister?”
Edward frowned, his gaze dark.
The car windows were partially rolled down, and he only had a second—a brief glimpse.
But it was enough.
He saw her.
Caroline Ford.
Sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of a Rolls-Royce.
And next to her... a man.
Edward's jaw tightened.
Claire, beside him, bit her lip hard, feeling a pang of jealousy so strong she could barely hide it.
She knew that car.
A limited edition Rolls-Royce.
Starting price: twenty million.
And, even more shocking, the license plate.
Four 8s—8888.
Among São Paulo's elite, that wasn't just a car.
It was a symbol of power, reserved for a small list of men who ruled the city behind the scenes.
Claire swallowed hard.
Blood boiled in her veins.
She had mocked her sister for “having an old, fat sugar daddy.”
But now... the scene before her told a different story.
That man wasn't old.
He wasn't fat.
And he was definitely not an ordinary person.
Claire watched until the car disappeared into traffic, the glow of the headlights fading into the distance.
A mixture of anger, envy, and fear rose up inside her.
“Edward...” she said in a trembling whisper. “That man... is he her man?”
Edward was silent for a long time.
His eyes fixed on the void, his jaw clenched.
And deep down, they both knew—though neither wanted to admit it.
From that moment on... Caroline Ford was no longer a woman they could despise.