Sorry, I'm the Final Boss Now novel Chapter 82

He had seen the video of the crash. If a heavy-duty truck had been there to block her car, she probably never would have plunged into the river.

His eyes drifted to the girl’s slender figure as she started up the stairs. George adjusted his glasses with one hand, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his phone.

Should he have his men continue to watch her? Did he really want to know the details of her meeting with Joshua?

“Marguerite,” George began, his voice a magnetic, pleasant baritone, yet laced with a careful tentativeness. “Care for a late-night snack?”

He had no idea what time she and Joshua had eaten dinner, so he wasn’t sure if she’d be hungry.

The girl paused on the stairs and turned, her enchanting eyes lighting up. “Yes, yes, yes!”

That mediocre noodle dish she’d had earlier hadn’t hit the spot, and she was starving.

A smile blossomed in George’s dark, obsidian eyes. “Spicy spaghetti? Hot pot for one?”

Thank God. Stella still needed him.

Marguerite tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hot pot, I think. Extra hot and spicy!”

George clutched his phone. “Alright. Go on up and take a shower. I’ll get it ready.”

He couldn’t stand the smell of smoke either. Especially Joshua’s.

He strode into the kitchen, the gold bamboo-link bracelet on his wrist glinting under the lights. The handsome man lowered his gaze, thought for a moment, then typed a reply on his phone.

[Continue the protection.]

He would try his best to restrain his darker impulses and not ask for details. Just keeping her safe from a distance would be enough.

The conversation had suddenly circled back to her, and Marguerite paused for a beat before raising an eyebrow. “I’ve only been living with you for a few days. Your wife will be with you for a lifetime.”

“Then why don’t you try staying with me a little longer and see what happens?” George replied smoothly, his eyes returning to the simmering pot on the stove. The rich, spicy aroma was already filling the kitchen as lettuce, instant noodles, potatoes, and an assortment of meatballs bubbled away.

Marguerite pouted. “George, are you using me as your guinea pig?”

George was silent.

Once the hot pot was served, Marguerite added a generous spoonful of sesame paste, stirring it into a thick, savory concoction. After one bite, she looked at George and mimed holding a phone to her ear. “Hello, Mr. Spencer? This is the Awesome Factory calling. Our delivery guy said he couldn’t reach you, but it’s no big deal. I’m just calling personally to let you know your lifetime supply has been delivered.”

Her joke made George laugh, and the small, tea-colored mole near his nose seemed to dance, adding to his charm. His voice was warm and coaxing.

“This is nothing, Marguerite. You shouldn’t set your standards so low.”