Chapter 682
Chapter 682:
“Janice, you must have had a long journey,” Vernon glided towards her, smoothly relieving her of her suitcase.
“How long have you been in Cloverhill?” Janice inquired.
“A week now.”
“A week?” Janice raised an eyebrow, her mind flickering to Leah’s earlier assignment. “Was it Leah who sent you here for that task?”
“Yes!”
“How’s it going?”
“Everything’s unfolding perfectly. One more week should seal the deal.”
“Very good.”
A sparkle danced in Janice’s eyes, and Vernon, basking in her approval, flushed with pride.
“Keep this under wraps. Once it’s complete, Cloverhill’s elite are in for quite the revelation.”
“Understood!”
The parking lot stretched before them as they emerged. Janice’s expression soured at the sight of the stretch limousine waiting ahead. She shot Vernon an exasperated look that clearly conveyed: “A stretch limo? Really? That’s so last decade.”
“Janice, if this isn’t to your taste, I can summon an alternative immediately.” Vernon offered an apologetic smile, having chosen the limousine with only her comfort in mind. After all, it was spacious and could ride smoothly.
Yet Janice’s distaste for such showmanship was evident.
“It seems you haven’t learned from Leah enough.”
“You’re right,” Vernon responded, perspiration betraying his discomfort as he absorbed the gentle rebuke.
𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 → g⍶𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀ꞏⅽ𝗼𝗺
To the world, he was fashion’s kingmaker, the gatekeeper whose approval every socialite craved. But before Janice, he was nothing more than a humble follower.
A sleek black sedan materialized before them.
“I haven’t even called for another car, and there’s one here?” Vernon’s confusion deepened as a figure emerged, opening the door with practiced grace.
Janice studied the man, her brow furrowing. Though masked and shielded behind sunglasses, his commanding presence and athletic build were unmistakable.
“Since when did chauffeurs become so refined?”
The mystery driver remained silent, merely gesturing toward the open door.
“Are you here to pick us up?” Vernon questioned, suspicion etched across his features. “But I made no such arrangements.”
“Get in,” said Janice. Without hesitation, she slipped into the back seat. Vernon, despite his unease, followed her lead without pause. The driver took his position, and the vehicle purred to life, gliding away from the curb.
As they merged onto Cloverhill’s main thoroughfare, Janice watched the city’s steel and glass monuments pierce the sky, its arteries clogged with the pulse of urban life. Their progress soon ground to a halt.
“There’s a traffic jam,” Vernon observed, surveying the metallic ocean before them. “They say Cloverhill gleams with glamour, but its true signature is these endless traffic snarls. Too many fortune seekers cram into too little space.”
“No rush,” Janice said calmly. “After all, it’s others who are anxious, not us.”
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