Sorry, I'm the Final Boss Now novel Chapter 81

It was a simple sentence, but as the words left his lips, a thin layer of sweat slicked Theobald’s palms.

On the one hand, he didn’t want to start rumors about Marguerite. She was only eighteen, and the idea of her living with a man would tarnish her reputation. On the other hand, he was just as reluctant to slander Mr. Spencer, a man of his character—so gentle and refined. But he had no choice. This was the only way he could think of to make Joshua back off and leave Marguerite alone for good.

Joshua, however, wasn’t buying it for a second.

“Impossible!” he scoffed over the phone. “Marguerite would never be into a guy like George. She only loves me!”

Though it was the truth, the words grated on Theobald’s ears.

His voice turned to ice. “Don't you own a mirror? Or a reality check?”

Joshua was speechless.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The line went dead again.

The veins on Joshua’s neck bulged. He took one last, deep drag from his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and grinding it out with his heel.

He refused to believe Theobald’s crap. The man had always harbored a deep-seated hostility toward him; he even suspected Theobald had only pursued Hannah out of spite.

A cool evening breeze washed over Joshua’s face, and he ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing with a thousand questions.

How on earth had Marguerite just reappeared out of thin air?

Before seeing the video, he’d entertained the theory that she hadn’t died in the crash at all. Maybe that psycho George had saved her and kept her locked away somewhere, only recently letting her out. But that theory fell apart the moment he saw her.

She was too young.

Whatever the truth was, he had to see her.

————

Ding!

Just as he stepped into the villa, a message lit up George’s phone.

[Sir, should we continue protecting Ms. Lopez tomorrow?]

He had been fighting every impulse to spy on her meeting with Joshua, so he had pulled back the men who had been watching over her from the shadows. But the decision had left him deeply unsettled, unable to concentrate on anything. He wanted—no, needed—to know her every move, to ensure her safety.

Having lost her once, he couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her ever again.