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Chapter_168
The soldiers exchanged glances, their eyes full of disbelief. They could tell Emmett was being humble, but they weren’t buying it.
Emmett caught their looks and knew they didn’t believe him. Before he could explain further, Jeremiah and Yvette appeared, walking side by side toward the group.
“Mr. Chavez,” they greeted.
Jeremiah gave a nod, his usually stern expression softening ever so slightly. He wasn’t surprised to see Emmett, Bruce, Chris, and Frankie—they were all trained by him personally, after all.
“Good job,” Jeremiah said with approval.
The four exchanged glances, their thoughts mirroring one another. Jeremiah really is full of contradictions. He treats Yvette differently. Where’s the tough, no-nonsense attitude?
Frankie, ever the dramatist, put on a pitiful expression. “Mr. Chavez, where are we headed? Ms. Zeller promised to hunt hares for us today.”
Jeremiah’s brows furrowed, and his eyes narrowed as he considered Frankie’s words. Why does Frankie suddenly call her Ms. Zeller?
Jeremiah tilted his head, striding toward the cave entrance. As he passed Frankie, he spoke in a low voice, “Who is Ms. Zeller, and why the formal title?”
Frankie, clueless, casually responded, “Yvette. She’s my mentor.”
Jeremiah stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Frankie with a mixture of confusion and amusement. Frankie, oblivious to the sudden shift, was animatedly recounting their journey to the soldiers.
Jeremiah recovered quickly, giving a curt, “Very well.” His tone wasn’t reassuring. In fact, it sounded like trouble was brewing for Frankie.
Yvette, hands casually in her pockets, strolled behind them with a lazy air. Seeing Jeremiah’s curious look, she raised an eyebrow. “It’s my first time being someone’s mentor,” she said with an easy smile. “But I accept.”
Jeremiah chuckled under his breath, admiring her confidence. She’s young, but she’s earned their respect.
Inside the cave, the fire crackled as Yvette leaned against the wall, eyes closed, looking completely at ease. Her hand rested casually on her leg, the delicate curve of her wrist visible in the flickering firelight.
Jeremiah, ever attentive, sliced a piece of wild boar meat and held it out to her. “Eat,” he urged gently.
Yvette tilted her chin up in a gesture of mild defiance, her eyes gleaming with an icy arrogance. “I’m not hungry.”
Jeremiah didn’t react with irritation. Instead, he smiled, his tone surprisingly gentle and patient. “Be a good girl, eat a little. It’s cold at night, and wild boar meat will keep you warm. It has the added benefit of keeping out the cold.”
Yvette studied him, her gaze pure and unguarded. The mischief in her eyes was unmistakable. She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.
Jeremiah’s eyes softened, but his voice remained light. “Really don’t want to eat?”
Yvette shook her head, unbothered. “Don’t want to eat.”
Emmett, Bruce, Chris, and Frankie had all taken seats across the cave, sitting just far enough away to allow for some privacy but still within earshot.
Every word of their conversation was clearly audible, and all four of them could only watch in stunned silence.
Bruce, holding a piece of the wild boar meat in his hand, felt no hunger. His gaze kept darting between Yvette and Jeremiah, both completely at ease with one another.
Chris, who had already taken a bite of his meat, thought, The man coaxing Yvette so softly? That couldn’t be Jeremiah, the ruthless strategist we know. Could it?
Emmett, sitting in quiet observation, shot a glance at Bruce and Chris. Their expressions mirrored the shock he felt when he first witnessed Jeremiah’s tenderness toward Yvette.
Fair enough, he thought, Now I feel balanced.
The soldiers, having served under Jeremiah’s command for years, were silently processing this new side of their leader. It was becoming increasingly clear that Jeremiah wasn’t adverse to women—he was just incredibly selective, and Yvette was the exception.
Seeing that Yvette still refused to eat, Jeremiah was about to set the plate of meat aside when he caught sight of Frankie. The man was sitting across from them, looking distinctly disgusted by the affection on display.
Jeremiah, with a slight smirk, crooked a finger at him.
Frankie, who had been gnawing on his piece of meat, hesitated. The sight of Jeremiah and Yvette so openly affectionate was almost too much to bear. But when he saw Jeremiah’s finger beckoning him, he walked over, albeit reluctantly, still unsure of what was going on.
The others—Emmett, Bruce, Chris—watched, their curiosity piqued. Why is Jeremiah calling Frankie over now?
Frankie approached, his voice stiff. “Ms. Zeller, Mr. Chavez.”
Jeremiah’s eyes darkened, a faint smile playing on his lips. Interesting, he thought. He had noticed how much respect Frankie and the others showed toward Yvette. Even Bruce, who generally held women at arm’s length, seemed to harbor no pretense around her. It wasn’t just admiration—it was genuine respect.
Frankie scratched the back of his head. “Ms. Zeller, Mr. Chavez, how can I help?”
Yvette sat up straighter, the coolness in her voice unmistakable. “Not me.”
Frankie turned to look at Jeremiah, confused. “Mr. Chavez, what do you want?”
Jeremiah’s smile widened, but there was an unmistakable tenderness in it that Frankie had never seen before. Jeremiah placed the wild boar meat onto a lotus leaf and handed it to Frankie with care.
Frankie froze, staring at the meat, unsure how to react. The absurdity of the moment didn’t escape him.
After a long pause, Frankie turned to glance at Emmett, Bruce, and Chris. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the words. Finally, he blurted out, “Help! Mr. Chavez is trying to poison me!”
His shout sent the others into a brief moment of stunned silence. Everyone stopped eating, their eyes fixed on him in confusion.
Yvette, her expression deadpan, lowered her eyes and reached for Jeremiah’s arm. “I have poison. It won’t hurt too much. Do you need it?”
Jeremiah, recognizing the mischievous gleam in her eyes, played along. His voice dropped to a mock-serious tone. “Yeah, alright.”
Frankie’s face drained of color as he realized what was happening. Why are they discussing poisoning me so openly? Isn’t that illegal?
Yvette, sensing his distress, smirked inwardly. I am the law, she thought.
The others—Emmett, Bruce, and Chris—couldn’t help but burst into laughter at Frankie’s bewildered expression.
Bruce sat down beside Jeremiah, careful to keep his distance, respecting the invisible boundaries that only Yvette seemed to transcend.
Emmett and Chris also sat, exchanging amused glances. Frankie, still holding the lotus leaf, looked around at the group in confusion.
Finally, he turned back to Jeremiah. “Mr. Chavez, you really called me over just to give me wild boar meat?”
Jeremiah nodded nonchalantly, as though it were no big deal.
Frankie, now thoroughly mystified, glanced at Yvette, who was practically leaning into Jeremiah’s space. It wasn’t lost on him that the two of them were almost inseparable now.
Jeremiah, finally glancing at Frankie with a soft smile, spoke low enough for only the group to hear. “If I want to be your mentor’s husband, I have to be nice to you.”
Frankie froze, his mind struggling to process what he had just heard. The rest of the group exchanged looks and couldn’t help but laugh at his dazed expression.
Yvette, meanwhile, stretched and yawned lazily, clearly unfazed by the whole exchange. “I’m sleepy,” she said, her voice full of quiet charm.
