Sorry, I'm the Final Boss Now novel Chapter 44

As the villa’s large gate swung shut, the silhouettes of the tall man and the petite girl disappeared from view.

Theobald turned around. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Anna nodded and walked toward the driver’s side. “Let me drive, Mr. Scott.”

Theobald waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just drop you off and head home from there.”

Soon, the black Bentley pulled up outside an old, weathered apartment complex. Theobald, his hand with the beaded bracelet resting on the steering wheel, frowned. “Why are you living in a place like this?”

An executive assistant’s salary, combined with her year-end bonus, was more than enough for a down payment on a decent condo in Northpine.

Anna smiled faintly. “I live with my parents. Thanks for the ride, Mr. Scott.”

Theobald wasn’t one to pry into other people’s affairs, so he simply nodded.

Anna turned to leave but then leaned back down, looking at him through the open window. “Mr. Scott,” she said softly, “my condolences.”

With that, she walked away, her tall, elegant figure casting a long shadow under the dim streetlights.

Theobald was momentarily confused. Then it hit him: she was talking about Hannah using him.

He had genuinely cared for Hannah. For a while there, he didn’t know what had come over him; he had been completely infatuated, thinking about her constantly. Hearing her admit that she was only using him to make Joshua jealous… honestly, it stung.

His expression hardened, his thick lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He took out his phone, opened WhatsApp, and navigated to Hannah’s contact. He tapped the three dots in the corner and selected “Delete.”

He was only twenty-six. Romance could wait. It was time to focus on his career. George was incredibly successful and had never let a woman distract him or derail his ambitions.

He should make George his role model.

Just then, a new message popped up.

[If you’re sad, talk to me. You bring the money, I’ll bring the emotional support, and we’ll go get wasted!]

She had gotten back late last night and gone straight to bed. But tonight, having returned around eight, she had instinctively settled onto the sofa to scroll through her phone. It was a habit from the summer after her senior year, when she would spend her days curled up on this very couch, reading and playing on her phone. The sofa was incredibly plush, swallowing you whole in its comfortable embrace.

It was only now that she noticed something she’d missed last night: the butlers and maids who bustled around during the day were nowhere to be seen.

“Where did the staff go?” she asked casually.

George’s eyes remained fixed on his laptop screen. “They all go home at eight,” he replied in a calm tone.

Marguerite grabbed a slice of orange. “This villa has several staff quarters. Why don’t you have them live in? It would be much more convenient for you.”

George looked up, his deep, beautiful eyes meeting hers through his glasses. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t need live-in help.”

Marguerite’s eyes flashed with admiration. Even though George was now fabulously wealthy, he remained grounded. He hadn’t let his fortune turn him into a decadent slob; he still lived in this old, unassuming villa.

“I get that, but what if you get hungry in the middle of the night? There’s no one to make you a late-night snack!”