Skip to content
Novel Catalog
Chapter_235
The next morning, Jeremiah dropped Yvette off at the entrance of the school before driving off to the market. As he settled into the car, he picked up his phone.
It was Bruce calling. Given the jet lag between Seacrity and Mysonna, it was already late at night in Mysonna.
“Mr. Chavez,” Bruce greeted him, his voice serious.
Jeremiah responded in a low voice, “Yes?”
“Mr. Chavez, someone with significant influence has been looking into your information over the past few days,” Bruce continued. “They even went as far as using hackers. However, we intercepted them quickly. They couldn’t uncover anything important. Our hackers did a counter-investigation and tracked the IP address back to the Goodman family residence—where Braydon is currently staying. It’s likely Braydon himself is the one investigating you.”
Jeremiah’s gaze sharpened, his expression hardening. He remained silent for a few moments before the cold glint in his eyes deepened. “Why?” he asked.
Bruce hesitated, unsure of the answer. “Mr. Chavez, I think it’s because of Yvette. After she left, Frankie told us Nathan visited our villa to bother Yvette’s friend, Sienna. Then…”
Jeremiah’s frown deepened. “Go on,” he urged, his voice colder than before.
Bruce continued, “Yvette ended up shooting Nathan. According to Frankie, although Nathan was furious, he didn’t show any disrespect toward Yvette. His tone was a strange mix of familiarity and fear. It’s suspicious—why would someone like Nathan be afraid of Yvette?”
Jeremiah pursed his lips, his voice becoming even more serious. “Yvette has another identity—an Interpol agent.”
Bruce nearly dropped his phone in shock. He struggled to steady it, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Mr. Chavez, are you saying Yvette is an Interpol agent?”
Jeremiah replied without hesitation, “Yes. Something happened yesterday that blew her cover.”
Bruce, already accustomed to the surprises surrounding Yvette, was still taken aback. He couldn’t help but think, How many identities does she have that I don’t know about?
“I knew the standards for Interpol were high,” Bruce continued, still processing the news. “But Mr. Chavez, your choice of women is definitely not ordinary. I’m completely convinced.”
Jeremiah’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Of course. A big shot’s woman is also a big shot. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
Bruce asked, “Do you think Yvette had some kind of connection with the Goodman family when she was at Interpol? Is that why Nathan is so cautious around her? As for Braydon, we still don’t know why he’s investigating you.”
Jeremiah frowned, his tone growing colder. “Get the Goodman family busy with something so they can’t focus on us. I’ll be heading to Mysonna soon.”
Bruce nodded. “Got it, Mr. Chavez. I’ll handle it. The Goodman family is currently expanding into water transport. I’ll use that to keep them distracted for now.”
“Okay. And leak a bit of my identity to them,” Jeremiah added. “I want to see what the Goodman family plans to do.”
Bruce understood immediately. Mr. Chavez never stands still—when he moves, it’s precise and ruthless. The Goodman family may have been content ruling the underground in Mysonna, but now they’ve provoked the wrong person.
“Alright, I’ll leak some information,” Bruce confirmed.
As they were about to hang up, Frankie returned from outside and overheard Bruce’s conversation with Jeremiah. Insisting on speaking, he asked for the phone.
Bruce handed it over. Frankie immediately offered his compliments to Jeremiah before diving into his real question. “Mr. Chavez, how’s Yvette? It’s so dull around here without her. Sienna’s child is gone, and now Sienna’s in the hospital. Could you tell Yvette that once Sienna’s better, we’ll head to Clusia to visit her?”
Jeremiah’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his blue eyes darkening with an edge of warning. “Who are you blowing kisses to?” he asked, his voice low.
Frankie immediately backpedaled, knowing better than to rile up someone like Mr. Chavez. “I swear, Mr. Chavez, those kisses were just a figure of speech! Just an expression!”
Jeremiah smirked. “Okay. Give the phone back to Bruce.”
Frankie’s face went pale as he passed the phone back. Bruce took it, and after a moment’s pause, he said, “Mr. Chavez is done with the conversation.”
Curious, Frankie leaned in. “What did Mr. Chavez say?”
Bruce gave him a sympathetic look, pausing for dramatic effect. Then, he spoke with a grin, “Mr. Chavez said you’re heading to Africa tomorrow. You’ll be in charge of the new gold mine.”
Frankie’s jaw dropped. “What?!”
Bruce chuckled, patting Frankie on the back. “I don’t think you’ll be blowing kisses anytime soon. Now you’ll be in Africa, dealing with the locals. How about I book you a private jet?”
Frankie groaned, defeated. “Come on, help me talk to Mr. Chavez! I really don’t want to go!”
Bruce shook his head. “Do you honestly think that’s possible?”
Sighing, Frankie resigned himself to his fate. He knew better than to expect any leniency from Mr. Chavez.
After the call ended, Jeremiah drove toward the market, his mind elsewhere.
This morning, Yvette mentioned wanting fried chicken wings, he thought. I should fulfill that wish for her.
Back at the school, as soon as Yvette entered, rumors had already started to spread. The forums were abuzz, with candid photos of her entering the gates making the rounds.
She first reported to Tobias and then made her way to Simon’s office.
At the door of the principal’s office, she knocked softly. “Hello, Simon, it’s Yvette.”
The door opened almost immediately. Simon stood inside with a welcoming smile, though he appeared a little uncomfortable. He had been waiting since early morning, his computer screen still displaying the Apex Urban University forum, where a student had posted a candid shot of Yvette entering the school gates.
Yvette glanced at the screen, her gaze lingering for a moment before she looked back at Simon.
Simon flushed slightly, feeling awkward. He rubbed his nose, trying to explain. “Well, you know, I recently applied for a new username and was browsing around. What a coincidence, I happened to see that.”
Yvette raised an eyebrow, her tone soft and slow. “Simon, your username is quite trendy.”
She sat down on the couch, noticing the snacks laid out on the table. There were some new kinds she hadn’t seen before, along with a few bags of well-known spicy treats.
Simon, feeling even more self-conscious, turned off his computer, his face flushed. He walked over and sat across from her. If I’m not embarrassed, then others are, he thought, silently praying she wouldn’t say anything more about the “Protector of Ms. Zeller.”
