Chapter 63

Chapter 63

Ella's POV

I took the envelope James handed me, opened it, and pulled out the documents inside.

Taking a closer look, it was actually a graduate admission letter from St. Westbridge University's accounting program, with my name—Ella—clearly written on it.

I stared at the admission letter, hardly believing my eyes: "How... how is this possible?"

St. Westbridge University was a top-tier university worldwide!

When I was still in Astoria, I had submitted applications to St. Westbridge University multiple times, but never heard anything back.

After I came to Phoenix City and started working, I kept applying.

It was just too difficult. Working while taking care of Mary, I'd already been rejected three times.

I never dreamed that one day I'd actually receive their admission letter, and with my dream advisor too.

James leaned back, his back against the bench, his slender fingers resting on his chin, quietly watching my shocked face. His golden bangs fell forward, slightly covering his handsome features.

"Happy now?"

After the initial surprise, I quickly thought of something.

I'd applied so many times before with no results—why would I suddenly receive an admission letter now?

James had enormous power and influence in this area. Could he have pulled strings to get me this offer?

At this thought, the joy on my face faded a bit. I gripped the corner of the admission letter tightly, hesitating for a long time before speaking: "James, this..."

James said bluntly, "I had nothing to do with this. You got it entirely on your own merit."

I frowned slightly. Was that really true?

I found it hard to believe.

I looked at the reporting date on the admission letter—tomorrow.

For a moment, I fell into deep thought.

James watched as my expression went from overjoyed one second to deflated the next, seeming puzzled.

"Don't want to go?"

I quickly shook my head: "No."

James guessed: "Worried about tuition?"

Yes, I was indeed worried about tuition.

I didn't have much money left.

Before coming here, I'd looked into St. Westbridge University's tuition—at least several hundred thousand dollars a year.

My savings had all gone to Mary's medical treatment over the years.

A while ago, to avoid James, I closed my studio and paid my employees their final wages plus severance.

But I really didn't want to miss this opportunity.

Coming back to my senses, I looked at James and asked in a tiny voice: "Could I borrow the tuition from you? I'll pay you back later."

James looked at me and teased, "Of course you can. So how do you plan to pay me back?"

Honestly, I hadn't expected him to ask that.

"Why don't you tell me what you need? I'll see if I can..." My voice trailed off, losing confidence.

The Smith Family was a top-tier family in the area. James had everything—what could he possibly need?

James looked at me, raising an eyebrow: "What do I need? You still don't know by now?"

"I..." I was at a loss for words.

James wrapped his arms around me, holding me as he turned me to face him, sitting me on his lap.

He lifted my chin, saying playfully, "How about you kiss me once, and I'll give you a hundred thousand dollars. Deal?"

I stared at him blankly, not moving for a long time.

"Hurry up!" James urged with a smile.

I still didn't move.

Seeing no response from me, James snatched the admission letter from my hands.

"I'll give you three seconds. If you still don't move," he threatened, "this admission letter is going to become confetti."

I stared at my admission letter and cried out nervously: "Don't."

I reached out to grab it, but James raised it out of my reach first.

He looked at me, his gaze burning.

Afraid he'd actually tear up the letter, I trembled all over as I leaned my face close to James and planted a light peck on his forehead.

After the kiss, I froze in place.

"Ella," James laughed, tapping his forehead with his knuckles, "just that, and you think you can get a hundred thousand dollars from me?"

My lips moved, but no sound came out.

James's hand gripped my slender waist: "Didn't I teach you how to kiss before? Forgot?"

"If you forgot, that's fine," his hand tightened, pulling me toward him, "I'll teach you again."

As soon as he finished speaking, James's lips pressed against mine, dominantly invading my mouth.

I was kissed until I could barely breathe, my gasps becoming more and more rapid.

Sensing my breathlessness, James stopped.

He gently squeezed the back of my neck and asked helplessly, "Ella, do you not have a tongue?"

Finally catching my breath, I answered tremulously: "I do."

"If you do, why don't you know to use it?"

James kissed me enough and finally let me go, staring at me in his arms.

I gulped for air.

He gently patted my back, helping me catch my breath.

Then he placed his right fingertip at my lips, wiping away the saliva—whose it was, I couldn't tell—that had spilled from the corner of my mouth, his movements incredibly gentle.

He looked at me, speaking slowly: "Baby, I have something tomorrow. When you go to school to register, I won't be able to take you."

After saying this, he seemed to remember something else.

"At school, don't look at other men."

"Otherwise, I'll gouge out that man's eyes."

My breath caught.

"And don't talk to other men either."

"Otherwise, I'll cut out his tongue."

A chill ran down my spine.

After his warnings, he returned the admission letter to me. "Go get ready."

I clutched the admission letter tightly, swallowed, and ran trembling out of the greenhouse.

After escaping from the greenhouse with my admission letter, I hurried back to my room and started preparing the documents I'd need for tomorrow's registration at St. Westbridge University.

Halfway through packing, I suddenly realized my passport had disappeared at some point.

I sighed helplessly—it was most likely hidden by James.

He was determined to keep me here and not let me return to Astoria.

After finishing packing, Alexander appeared out of nowhere and dragged me to play in the courtyard.

James had also left at some point. He was nowhere to be seen all day, and didn't come back even by evening.

The next day, right after breakfast, I prepared to leave for St. Westbridge University to register.

As soon as I walked out the manor gates, I saw two burly men standing guard there. One had short, sandy-blond hair, the other a close-cropped brown cut—the kind of all-American look you'd see in a college football team photo.

They wore camouflage uniforms and khaki leather boots, looking quite intimidating.

The sandy-blond-haired man made a "please" gesture and spoke first: "Ms. Thorne, please get in the car. Mr. Smith asked us to take you to school."

I stood still, staring directly at the speaker.

This didn't look like taking me to school at all—it looked more like a kidnapping.

And this person looked somewhat familiar; his voice also sounded familiar.

I thought for a few seconds, my brow furrowed, finally confirming my suspicion: "You, you're the person who hijacked me on the plane last time."

The sandy-blond-haired man showed an embarrassed expression, lowered his head, and said: "I'm very sorry, Ms. Thorne. I was quite offensive on the plane last time."

I instantly pieced everything together.

That so-called hijacking by James's "enemy" last time was completely a show James had staged himself.

No wonder there was such good food on the plane, someone brought me a blanket even though I was "hijacked," and finally that jerk appeared at the critical moment pretending to be my savior.

I took a deep breath. James, that guy, was really cunning!

The sandy-blond-haired man stepped forward and introduced himself: "Ms. Thorne, my name is George."

The other man, with a close-cropped brown cut, followed: "Hello, Ms. Thorne, I'm Raymond."

Looking at them, I couldn't help but zone out. At that moment, I truly felt completely under James's control.

George said again, "Ms. Thorne, please get in the car."

I tugged at my backpack straps and reluctantly got into the back seat.