Chapter 72 A Gentle Bite
The next morning, Sherry woke to find the other side of the bed empty. Armando had already left for the office.
She glanced at the clock, her brows knitting. He was rarely up and gone this early.
Reaching for her phone on the nightstand, she dialed Tom.
Tom answered quickly, glancing toward Armando's closed office door. "Miss Scott?"
Sherry's voice was warm, almost gentle, though a faint chill lingered beneath. "Tom, I need you to help me with something."
"Of course," Tom replied.
"I want you to find out Yvonne's real identity." Her lips curved in a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Understood."
She thanked him softly and ended the call.
Later, Tom mentioned the request to Armando.
Armando didn't look up from the file in his hands. "Fine. And send an invitation to the chairman of Stellar Industries Group—tomorrow night at seven."
Tom acknowledged the order and stepped out of the office.
Elizabeth was up early for once—six o'clock sharp.
Timothy stirred as she rose, his voice still husky from sleep. "So early?"
"Yes. I'm going for a swim."
The grand indoor pool on this floor had tempted her since last night.
Timothy propped himself on one elbow, a lazy smile playing at his lips. "Alright. I'll join you."
But once they were in the water, it became clear that Elizabeth's "swimming" was more like holding onto the pool's edge and kicking her long legs in slow, playful motions.
After two laps, Timothy returned to her side, his handsome face close to hers. "You don't actually know how to swim, do you?"
Elizabeth arched a brow. "Of course I do. What, you want to race me?"
Her eyes sparkled with challenge.
Timothy chuckled low in his throat. "You think you can beat me?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Want to bet?"
His brows lifted. "What's the prize if I win?"
"What do you want?" she countered, narrowing her gaze.
He pretended to think, then leaned in to murmur against her ear, his tone suggestive. "If I win… you'll use this tonight." His cool fingers brushed her lips.
Elizabeth pulled back with a laugh. "No. Pick something else."
Timothy sighed in mock disappointment. "Then name your own prize."
Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "Loser eats a ghost pepper every day for a month."
Timothy gave her a thumbs-up. "Elizabeth, you're ruthless. You're the one who'll be eating it."
They climbed out of the pool to stretch.
Elizabeth grinned. "Mr. Robinson, you're the one who's going to be eating ghost peppers."
He smirked, deliberately averting his gaze from her figure. "Trying to distract me with a beautiful woman's charm won't work."
She straightened, smiling. "One lap back and forth decides the winner."
They dove in together.
Elizabeth's pace was quick, but Timothy held back just enough to keep the race close.
Near the end, he heard her call out sharply. Instinct made him stop and glance back.
In that instant, she reached the finish.
Her grin was pure triumph. "I win."
Timothy shook his head. "You're shameless."
"No, no, no. That's not shameless—it's called strategy." She wagged a finger at him.
He caught her finger and brought it to his lips, giving it a light bite.
Elizabeth laughed, one hand on her hip.
Later, Joe finished briefing Timothy on company matters, then added, "Mr. Robinson, Stellar Industries Group has sent word—Mr. Johnson has invited you to dinner tomorrow night."
Joe pushed his glasses up with a finger, his demeanor neat and composed. Timothy's mood today was unusually light, like a warm breeze.
"Let Stellar Industries decide. And don't share anything that shouldn't be shared."
He returned to his paperwork.
Just then, Matthew called. "Timothy, it's been ages since we had a drink. Free tonight?"
Timothy, wearing his Bluetooth headset, didn't look up. "No."
Matthew sounded incredulous. "That busy?"
"Yes." Timothy was about to hang up when a thought struck him. "What do you give a woman to make her happy?" His tone was casual, almost detached.
Matthew chuckled. "Rare question from you. Diamonds, luxury goods, a house…"
Before he could finish, Timothy ended the call.
Matthew stared at his phone, baffled. Was Timothy unimpressed with his suggestions?
At TechStrong, Elizabeth had just stepped out of the chairman's office when her desk phone rang.
It was the front desk. "Miss Penrose, a Mr. Watson is here with something for you."
Timothy's assistant, Joe Watson.
Elizabeth smiled. "I'll be right down. Please ask him to wait."
She grabbed her phone and took the elevator to the lobby.
Sure enough, Joe stood there, immaculate as always, a refined air about him.
He handed her a beautifully wrapped box. If one looked closely, his smile seemed just a touch strained.
"Miss Penrose, this is a gift from Mr. Robinson."
Elizabeth's brows lifted in surprise. Timothy had thought to send her a gift? "Thank you."
Joe left soon after.
Back at her desk, she set the box aside without opening it, focusing on her work.
When she finally untied the ribbon, she paused.
Inside was a bank card and a small note, Timothy's handwriting bold and sweeping.
It read: [Elizabeth, my salary card. Buy whatever you want.]
She laughed softly, tucking both into her wallet before sending him a message.
Elizabeth: [Remember, you owe a month of ghost peppers. I've already ordered it—Carlton Hotel will prepare a plate for you every day, charged to your card.]
By the time Timothy read the message, he was silent.
Elsewhere, Natalia hadn't gone to school that day.
She couldn't understand how Bruce, who had always doted on her, could change overnight.
"Mom, I'm still so young," she sobbed. "How can you let me marry a man thirty years older?"
Her voice was thick with both anger and despair.
"The supermarket has been losing money for three years straight. We're seventy billion dollars in the red," Calista said, her brows drawn tight. She hated seeing her daughter in pain, but Bruce had no other solution.
Natalia's voice broke. "And marrying me off to an old man is the solution? Mom, please… find another way. I don't want this."
Calista's gaze softened, but her tone remained firm. "The only way to fill a seventy-billion-dollar hole is if Elizabeth helps."
Natalia blinked. "Her? Didn't she divorce Mr. Johnson? How could she have that kind of money?"
"I've been told that when Elizabeth divorced Armando, she walked away with ten billion in assets," Calista said coldly. "If she gave us seventy billion, she'd still have thirty left to live comfortably."
Her voice sharpened. "We've tried to see her, but she refuses to meet us."
Natalia froze, then jealousy flared hot.
Elizabeth—divorced, supposedly cast out by the Johnson family—yet she had walked away with a fortune?
"Mom, go to her again," Natalia said, hope rekindled in her tear-reddened eyes.