Sorry, I'm the Final Boss Now novel Chapter 78

The signal in the secret room was terrible, which was why the message had been delayed. The moment he saw it, he was overcome with euphoria and sprinted out.

Even though Stella had gone to see the person she liked, she had still come back to his home.

That was enough.

“I was home,” George said, his voice maintaining its usual gentle tone, but his eyes never left the girl’s radiant face.

Marguerite walked toward the gate. “I should get a key made. It would save you the trouble of coming to the door every day.”

“It’s no trouble,” the man’s voice was soft but held an unexpected firmness.

Being able to open the door for her was a joy. How could he ever find it troublesome? It was the secret room’s faulty signal that was the problem; he would have to get it fixed.

As the girl drew closer, George caught the faint scent of smoke clinging to her clothes. His eyes darkened. Didn’t Joshua know that Stella hated the smell of smoke? Why would he smoke when he was with her?

A second later, his heart sank.

What was the situation between Stella and Joshua now? Were they back together?

Would she start coming home late from now on?

“I have a lot of work to do lately, so it’s fine if you come home late. I’ll probably be up anyway,” George added, desperate to dissuade Marguerite from getting a key.

He could wait for her. As long as she came back, he would wait forever.

This was George’s home, after all. Even if he were just an ordinary person, Theobald couldn't push the matter further. “Alright, Mr. Spencer. You two get some rest. I’ll be going now.”

Marguerite waved at him. “Drive safe.”

Theobald started the car, his beaded hand turning the steering wheel. He glanced at the closed villa gate. Even knowing that Mr. Spencer might have feelings for Marguerite, he wasn’t too worried. Firstly, he trusted Mr. Spencer’s character. A man dedicated to charity, who treated everyone with kindness, wouldn’t do anything to disrespect Marguerite. Secondly, worrying was useless. Could he ask Mr. Spencer to let him move in to keep an eye on things? Obviously not.

He had only one question now: how did Marguerite feel about Mr. Spencer? He would have to find a time to ask her.

He pulled his gaze away, gently pressed the accelerator, and the car moved smoothly onto the mountain road. He hadn’t driven far when his phone rang. He picked it up with one hand; it was an unfamiliar Northpine number. He answered, and a strange man’s voice came through the line.

“Theobald, where’s your sister?”