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Chapter_254
James suddenly recalled something Simon had once mentioned. Yvette’s relationship with her father didn’t seem great, and her mother had passed away.
In that case, James thought, I need to support her. And saving up for her wedding… When she marries into the Chavez family, I’ll make sure to give her plenty of gifts. All these years of private savings are finally going to come in handy. No one can talk behind Yvette’s back now.
He glanced at Michael, feeling a bit of bitterness. It would be so much easier if Michael didn’t have autism.
Meanwhile, Emmett was driving, occasionally glancing at Yvette through the rearview mirror. He wondered to himself, How did Mr. Owens become Yvette’s grandpa? What’s going on? He was intrigued, but he didn’t dare ask.
Yvette sat in the back seat, eyes closed, looking like she was asleep. However, when Emmett looked back for the fourth time, Yvette suddenly opened her bloodshot eyes and said in a calm voice, “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”
Emmett paused, clearly cautious. He asked, “Yvette, how did Mr. Owens become your grandpa?”
Yvette looked at him, squinting slightly, her face expressionless. “Just by chance,” she replied.
Emmett realized she didn’t want to discuss it and dropped the subject. Yvette’s good at joking, he thought. Who could be so lucky as to have a grandpa like James just by chance? It’s like winning the lottery!
After dropping Yvette off at Skyland, Emmett left to attend to some matters at the military base.
At midnight, after her shower, Yvette emerged from the bathroom wearing a loose shirt. Her long, slender legs were as fair as snow, and her cold eyes softened with a slight curl of her lips.
In a swift movement, she kicked open the hidden door Jeremiah had meticulously constructed. A shadow flashed out from behind it. Under the bright lights, Jeremiah, dressed in his military uniform, stepped forward. His high nose, thin lips, and thick eyebrows made for a handsome profile, with a perfectly sculpted face.
Yvette’s gaze locked with his, cold but calculating. Without a word, she strode toward him. In an instant, her fist flew at him, fierce and full of anger.
Jeremiah easily dodged it, though a trace of affection lingered in his eyes, mixed with a bit of frustration. He didn’t know when Yvette had found this secret door, but he stepped back without fighting back, allowing her to vent her fury.
Half an hour later, Jeremiah swept Yvette into his arms, and in a flash, she pinned him to the bed. She looked down at him, her gaze scanning him like a queen inspecting her domain.
As she moved, Jeremiah’s breathing grew heavier. Yvette noticed it, her eyes deepening. She was completely unaware of the effect she had on him—her clothes slightly disheveled from the earlier tussle, her collarbones glowing in the soft light, a mixture of innocence and seduction radiating from her.
Jeremiah, beneath her, stared into her eyes, struggling to control the desire building within him. “You want to be on top?” he asked, his voice low.
Hearing this, Yvette rolled off him, but Jeremiah, with surprising ease, pulled her back onto his chest. In a flash, their positions changed, and they stood face to face. Yvette’s legs were wrapped around his strong waist. Their eyes locked, neither willing to give in.
In the end, it was Jeremiah who yielded first. He gently pinched her earlobe, his voice strained as he gritted his teeth. “Don’t tempt me anymore, or I might not wait until the wedding.”
Yvette raised an eyebrow, a cool and alluring smile curving her lips. She gently pinched his fingers, her voice quiet but firm. “Explain the door to me,” she demanded.
Jeremiah paused, pressed his lips together, and then calmly replied, “I just wanted to be nearer to you.”
Yvette’s eyes widened in surprise. So, this man is actually shy? She thought, somewhat intrigued by the revelation.
She poked his ear lightly, and Jeremiah’s body tensed, a slight dazed look overtaking his expression. He quickly released his hold on her waist and took two steps back, visibly flustered. Yvette burst into laughter.
Jeremiah, voice deep and slightly shaky, spoke. “I’ll go make you food.” He quickly turned and left the room, looking like he was trying to make a hasty exit.
Yvette’s soft snort echoed behind him as he hurried downstairs.
In the kitchen, Jeremiah finally calmed down a little, his chest still heaving slightly from the encounter. He sighed deeply, realizing that his resistance to Yvette’s charm was weakening.
Half an hour later, Jeremiah had prepared a simple beef pasta dish, filled with hearty portions of beef and just a small amount of pasta—authentic, nothing like what you’d find at a supermarket.
Yvette came downstairs, and sat on the custom-made dining chair Jeremiah had bought for her. It was large and soft, perfect for snuggling up in. She glanced at the plate of beef pasta in front of her—an impressively generous portion.
Jeremiah, now in his loungewear, sat down next to her. Their outfits were almost identical, as if they were a couple.
He casually peeled an orange for her, handing her the pieces with a soft question. “Did you meet with James today?”
Yvette nodded nonchalantly, not hiding anything. “Yeah.”
Jeremiah handed her the peeled orange and asked, “Did you get a new grandpa by chance?”
Yvette took a bite of the orange. It was a little sour, not her favorite taste, but she raised an eyebrow and replied, “Yeah. He’s kind of like your grandpa, always putting on an act.”
Jeremiah paused, his hand stilling as he peeled the orange. He looked at her with a faint curiosity. “These two old men grew up together, always competing. Even now, they bicker like kids. They fought hard for Clusia when they were young, and now, whenever they meet, they start squabbling like children.”
Yvette put her fork down, took a sip of water, and casually crossed her legs. She looked relaxed as she said, “He’s an interesting old man. Do you know Michael?”
Jeremiah’s eyes darkened at the mention of Michael. “Michael was a genius when he was young. But a car accident ruined him. Once, at a party, someone pushed him into a river. James banished that person from Betrico. After that, James kept him protected, hardly letting him meet anyone.”
Yvette tilted her head slightly, her voice soft as she spoke. “There’s a possibility his autism could be treated, but it’s risky. The success rate is only 60 percent. If it doesn’t work, it could make his autism worse.”
Jeremiah’s bright eyes stayed locked on Yvette, his gaze intense. He nodded slowly. “Does James know about this?”
Yvette shook her head. “No. 60 percent is too low.”
Jeremiah chuckled softly, a slight smirk playing on his lips. 60 percent is too low? He thought. We can cure it, no problem. Yvette sure knows how to show off, doesn’t she?
