In the elevator, the bodyguards surrounded Alfred.
Melora was crammed in a corner of the elevator. She had just ingested three sleeping pills. and had her stomach washed, and just looking at her gave others the vibe that she was weak and delicate.
She forcefully squeezed toward Alfred.
Those ferocious-looking bodyguards stopped her, leaving her feeling aggrieved.
Seeing that, Leslie could not help but chuckle.
âLet her over!â Alfred uttered.
A path instantly formed before the man. Melora squeezed her way toward him and pulled a funny face at those bodyguards. It was quite an adorable sight.
Alfred could not help but think of the small milk bottle in her bag.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips.
Surprisingly, his tired body felt rejuvenated. Could it be that this young lady actually holds so much power? I feel so much more relaxed now!
Alfredâs hotel suite was exceedingly spacious. It was roughly about three hundred square meters in size.
There was even a small gym inside.
As he was busy, he called for lunch upon heading in. Without delay, Leslie went to make the necessary arrangements.
In less than thirty minutes, the chef brought in a table of delicious food. Busy looking. through documents, Alfred did not raise his head to see and merely muttered, âGirls nowadays love spicy food. You donât mind, do you?â
Melora quickly shook her head. âNo! No!â
How would I dare...
The three ate together. It was clear Leslie was Alfredâs confidant. He was attentive at setting the right mood and occasionally made some playful banter during the meal.
In truth Melora could not handle spicy food that well.
She had barely eaten a few mouthfuls when she felt her throat burning and her eyes welling up with tears.
No longer able to hold it in, Melora stirred the spicy seafood stew in her bowl and ranted in a low voice, âWhy are we eating inside a hotel suite? Itâll probably take a long time for this smell to fade, wonât it?â
Hmph! Girls love spicy food, he says. Itâs obvious heâs the one who loves it!
Alfred had, in fact, long noticed it. However, he did not mention anything about it. He thought it was quite interesting to see how Meloraâs face was bright red.
He cast Leslie a glance.
The latter instantly understood what Alfred meant and said with a smile, âThatâs because itâs not too convenient for Mr. Lodge to dine in, given his identity. You donât seem to like the food here, though. How about I order something else for you?â
Meloraâs eyes were filled with tears. âI want some fried chicken and milkshake!â
After a slight pause, she added, âCrystal used to cook fried chicken for me frequently!â
Sheâs even making use of Crystal...
Alfred softly chuckled. This silly girl isnât that dumb after all.
âOrder a plate of fried chicken and a milkshake for her,â he instructed.
Leslie was quite surprised. Mr. Lodge has never had such a good temper. Itâs always the people around him who are accommodating him. Since when did he ever coax a young lady like this? And whatâs more, fried chicken and milkshake, huh?
Regardless, Melora eventually got both.
She sat on the couch before the floor-to-ceiling windows, enjoying the food she requested. Alfred had always had a small appetite, which was probably why he could maintain that figure even after working for twenty years.
He merely sat there, his gaze fixed on the strikingly stunning Melora.
The Miller family truly raised her well. She tried to kill herself yesterday and was still in a squabble with her ex-fiance earlier. Yet now, sheâs happily enjoying her fried chicken. She really lives a carefree life, doesnât she?
Alfred was unexpectedly a little envious.
After lunch, Leslie leaned in and whispered, âMr. Lodge, the people are here. Do you want t meet them now?â
Alfred nodded in response.
Leslie was somehow apprehensive. âDo you want to go to the study, or...â
Alfred gave it a thought. âJust do it here. Itâs not anything important, anyway!â
Hearing their conversation, Melora flashed a bright smile while swinging her legs. âMr. Alfred, go ahead with what you have to do. Weâll talk about our matter later after youâre done.â
Leslie could not hold back his laughter.
This young lady... What is there for her to talk with Mr. Lodge about?
Alfred did not utter a word, however.
Subsequently, he received several groups of people. They were all elites in their thirties to forties.
It was quite an imposing scene to behold!
Amongst them was an exceptionally gorgeous and alluring woman. Before she left, she glanced at Melora and queried, âMr.
Lodge, who is she?â
Alfred did not like others prying and responded coldly, âA junior of mine.â
Melora had wanted to plead on Henryâs behalf.
Uh... But Mr. Alfred has so many people to receive. Doesnât he feel tired at all?
Eventually, she succumbed to her exhaustion and fell asleep on the couch while hugging a cushion tightly.
As night fell, Alfred finally sent off the last group of people.
He was overwhelmed by exhaustion, but he had the habit of drinking a glass of red wine. when he was tired to relieve the fatigue.
The suite was dimly-lit.
Alfred had changed into a fresh set of clothing. It was a formal black attire, making him loo extra poised and steady.
Holding the wine glass in his hand, he gazed at the young lady on the couch. The lights. outside seeped in through the floor-to-
ceiling windows, creating a kaleidoscopic array around her. It was a breathtaking sight to behold.
How can there be someone who can sleep so well? Sheâs innocent and clueless... She doesnât seem the slightest bit wary at all!
Perhaps because his stare was too intense, Melora soon woke moved into a kneeling position on the couch.
She rubbed her eyes and She had a slender figure, and with her long white dress and silky black tresses draping over her back, she appeared incredibly stunning. In fact, she looked nothing like a child.
After getting a clear look at the man before her, she called out adorably, âMr. Alfred!â
âYouâre awake?â
Alfred put down his wine glass and lifted the corners of his lips into a faint smile. âArenât you afraid about sleeping in a strangerâs room? And a man, at that.â
Meloraâs cheeks had a rosy hue, possibly from sleeping too long.
She scratched her head lightly and replied matter-of-factly, âIâm not scared. Youâre Crystalâs uncle... And I call you Mr. Alfred!â
Alfred took a step forward.
He could touch her silky long hair as long as he reached his hand out.
However, he only stood there.
Melora knelt on the couch, tidying her unruly hair. âMr. Alfred, how old are you?â she uttered softly.
A few images flashed through Alfredâs mind as he looked at how she knelt on the couch.
He let out a light chuckle.
Seeing that, Melora was in a slight daze. Mr. Alfred is so good-looking when heâs smiling! Frankly speaking, she had many good-
looking men around her. Henry, specifically, had outstanding features that hardly anyone could win against. That said, she thought a smiling Alfred was unlike any other-he was attractive and oozed masculinity.
Her heart started racing.
No way! Melora, you canât possibly fall in love with Crystalâs uncle, can you? Canât you be a little less useless?
She was, undoubtedly, struck dumb by the possibility of that wild thought actually being a fact, so much so that she completely forgot her initial motive for meeting the man.
Alfred gently fastened his cufflinks. âItâs getting late. Iâll send you back.â
Embarrassed to say anything else, she merely followed behind the man.
Arriving at the hotelâs underground parking lot after stepping out of the private elevator, Alfred opened the door of a black Lotus, then signaled to Melora to take a seat inside.
Sitting beside him, she softly asked, âMr. Alfred, whereâs your secretary? And didnât you have. many bodyguards following you?â
Alfred lowered his head and lit a cigarette.
He had exceptionally fair skin. Coupled with how the corners of his eyes grew slightly red while he was smoking, he looked somewhat like a scoundrel disguised as a gentleman.
Puffing out smoke, he flashed a faint smile. âThis is a personal trip, so thereâs no need for me to bring them along!â
P-Personal trip... Sending me home is a personal matter?
Once again, Melora found her heart racing. She could not even put her hands on her lap properly as they were trembling so much.
The black sports car sped down the roads.
At about nine, the vehicle arrived outside the Miller residence.
Melora placed her hand on the door handle, her legs feeling like jelly. She turned her head. and softly said, âThank you, Mr.
Alfred. I...â
Alfred rested his hand on the car window, silently smoking.
Moments later, he threw the cigarette butt away and said in a deep, raspy voice, âAt my age, Iâm not suitable for young girls.â
Melora bit her lip. âIâm twenty-seven. Iâm no longer a young girl!â
Alfred lightly stroked the steering wheel with his fair, slender fingers.
His smile, though polite, had a hint of wickedness to it. âYou still bring cute accessories and a small milk bottle around with you.
What are you if not a young girl?â