Chapter 20

Didn't Mr. Spencer have a severe case of mysophobia?

None of the staff were even allowed to live in the villa; they all had to rent their own places.

Seeing George agree, Marguerite jumped up with joy, a sliver of her slim waist showing.

"Great! It's settled then. You can discuss the rent with my brother. I'm going upstairs to sleep!"

Her head felt like it was full of sludge. If she didn't sleep soon, she was going to collapse.

Without waiting for a response from George or Theobald, the girl bounded up the stairs, her long hair swinging in a beautiful arc.

A faint, clean scent from her hair lingered in the air.

George discreetly took a deep breath.

The butler quickly asked, "Mr. Spencer, should I show her to a guest room?"

George waved him off. "You can go. She knows this place better than you do."

Stella had lived in this villa for eighteen years.

The vast living room now held only Theobald and George.

Theobald swallowed, picked up the glass of water the butler had poured earlier, and took a sip before speaking. "Mr. Spencer, thank you for agreeing to rent a room to us. Would one hundred thousand a month be acceptable for rent?"

George's expression was mild. He adjusted his glasses with one finger and smiled. "Theobald, is it? That much isn't necessary. A token amount will do. Focusing on running your company well is worth more to me than ten thousand."

Theobald froze, then touched his nose, his hand adorned with the black rosary beads. "You're right, Mr. Spencer. I appreciate the advice."

Smart men understood each other with just a few words.

That was a clear warning.

It seemed his recent romantic scandals had made quite a splash, reaching even Mr. Spencer.

Investors always kept a close watch on their companies; how else would they decide whether to increase or decrease funding for the me quarter?

Theobald felt the same mortification as a student caught daydreaming in class, and he nearly bowed his head to the floor.

The air grew quiet.

George's smooth voice broke the silence. "If there's nothing else, you should head back."

Theobald looked up, forcing himself

to meet George's gaze. "Mr. Spencer, I'm entrusting my sister to you. You might have just been

humoring her before, but she really

did time travel

Saying something so fantastical to George's gentle yet unapproachable face was

difficult. His sister truly had nerves of steel.

George's jade-like fingers picked up his teacup, his eyes glinting.

He genuinely believed it.

There was no other explanation for why Marguerite hadn't changed in the slightest, right down to the split ends in her hair.

"The world is full of wonders," George said with a light laugh.

As expected of a magnate, his ability to accept the unusual was impressive.

Theobald smiled, then remembered something else. “There's one more thing I'd like

to ask you to be mindful of."

George looked at him. "What is it?"

Theobald chose his words carefully. "Before she traveled through time, my sister was dating Joshua-the popular actor. She just went through this bizarre experience,

probably still has feelings forhim. If you happen to watch TV, could you please be careful not to watch any of his shows?"

He knew that a man like George probably didn't watch much TV, but he wanted to

take every precaution to prevent his sister from getting hurt.

In an instant, George's eyes turned dark and menacing. His knuckles whitened

around the teacup, veins standing out on the back of his hand.

He lowered his gaze, and when he looked up again, his gentle, scholarly demeanor had returned.

"Alright. I understand."