Sorry, I'm the Final Boss Now novel Chapter 19

Marguerite thought that sharing a secret, even a wild one, might foster a sense of closeness. And since something so fantastical was unbelievable to most people, she planned to offer proof—that she hadn't aged a day, that she remembered details from high school—to jog his memory and maybe soften him up.

But he didn't play by the rules. He just said, “I believe you.”

She now suspected her old rival was deliberately messing with her.

Marguerite smiled sweetly. “So, my emotional attachment to this villa is incredibly strong. After all, just the day before yesterday, I was still living here. Can’t you sell it to me, for old time’s sake?”

The handsome man turned to look at her, his expression still gentle and refined. “No.”

This guy was impossible.

Then again, what “old time’s sake”? There was no friendship between rivals.

Marguerite was out of options. She resorted to her final move, pressing her palms together and rubbing them like a hopeful fly. “Please, the Handsome Spencer! Mr. Spencer! Mr. Spencer!”

Rivals were always proud. She had never imagined she would one day be begging George for anything. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

The beautiful girl’s large, watery, almond-shaped eyes were filled with pleading. Her gesture was so utterly charming that anyone would have caved.

George’s heart lurched. His hand, resting on the sofa, sank into the cushions. He fought the urge to nod and, with great effort, shook his head again.

If he sold the villa, he would lose his only legitimate reason to see her.

Marguerite flopped back onto the sofa, punching the air in defeat. “I’m done for!”

George: “…”

Theobald: “…”

“Mr. Spencer, I’ll talk to your neighbors and buy the villa next door. That way, my sister will have a place to stay during the day. Until then, I’ll pick her up every morning. She’ll only be here at night to sleep. I promise she won’t disturb you.”

Seeing that George didn't immediately refuse, Marguerite quickly added, “Right, right! I won’t interfere with your life at all, I promise! If you ever bring a girlfriend home, you can just say I’m the maid.”

Interfere with his life?

He would welcome it.

George looked up, the darkness in his eyes carefully concealed, his tone unreadable. “Fine.”

The butler was truly, utterly, profoundly shocked.

He wouldn’t sell the house, but he’d rent out a room?